


Through Death's Eyes

by ShaBMOVerse



Series: Awakening [2076-2079] [1]
Category: Original Work, ShaBMOVerse
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Binge Drinking, Character Development, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Fake Science, Flashbacks, Fluff, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26543566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaBMOVerse/pseuds/ShaBMOVerse
Summary: Bjorg got asked to return to Platinum Federation. She doesn't take it lightly.Tags to be added as story goes onWritten by Shadow // On hiatus.
Series: Awakening [2076-2079] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930195





	1. The Fear

The shrill noise of a phone call jolted Bjorg awake - it was her retail job calling. The phone’s light flooded her room, bathing the crisp white ceiling in a gentle blue hue. According to her schedule, she should have a day off today. As the phone kept on ringing, the notification bar was riddled with messages that were awaiting a response. Simply sighing, Bjorg rolled over onto her back, cleared her voice a little to wake it up, and answered the phone.

  
  
 _“Hello, Bjorg Sigrun speaking,”_ She spoke, her Norwegian as fluent as ever, her voice still a little croaky, but chipper. This was feigned. As the phone speaker relayed muffled words, Bjorg stayed silent for a bit, listening to the information over the phone. Of course, just as she expected - a request for her to come in to work, and a telling off from her manager for not answering text messages. _“Sorry, I was just expecting to have a day off today, so I didn’t answer the messages. I’ll come in though.”_ The woman replied, and politely waited for the conversation to end before pulling the phone away from her face. Hanging up with slight annoyance, she dropped her phone back onto the bedside table with a clatter, and turned to face the wall, eliciting a deep, tired sigh.

  
  
Her body was absolutely against getting up right now. It felt heavy, sinking into her sheets, unable to leave. Weighed down by the duvet, almost pressing her down into the mattress further. She wished she could lay there, motionless, to dissolve and be taken by nature itself, but another day had to pass. She had to keep on going, despite her eye bags, despite her feet feeling like they drag, despite her posture being absolutely destroyed from lack of attention. Laying there for a couple of minutes, getting the courage and strength to get up, she gently kicked away the bottom of her covers to try to force her to get up. Soon enough, the cold got too much, her seemingly heavy body now light, willing to get up and out. As she yawned and stretched to get up, the stale scent of wine got wafted into her nose, making her look down at her bedside table, puzzled. There, she saw a half-empty bottle of red wine, staring right back at her. Another rough night? She thought to herself, ruffling her orangey-brown, shoulder blade length hair and throwing the covers off of her slightly toned body. Before she stood, a cork found its way into the wine bottle.

  
  
As she stood, the floorboards under her feet cracked a little, settling in to bearing new weight. They were old anyway, long due for a renovation. But it wasn’t for her to decide, nor was the choice of tacky, sheer pink curtains that were currently blocking out the cold sun. Neither could she change the worn, white desk, adorned with yellowed, faded or ripped stickers, plastic gems, and small, broken figurines. Or even the wardrobe - a dark oak, solid piece of furniture, that had marker stains somewhere near to the bottom that had been missed from all the sanding and varnishing. After all, she was back in her childhood home, and has been for the past 6 odd years after Platinum Federation had shut, for reasons she was vaguely involved in, but weren’t her fault. Ever since then, she hadn’t thought about returning even if it got new management, nor did she ever face science ever again. The proof was there, that she had done revolutionary things - in newspapers, articles, and even letters that were stashed away in a folder she had stuffed somewhere into the back of her wardrobe. They were the last thing she needed to see, knowing that if she looked at them, it would spark a drive within her to get her back to her calling. But all of that was behind her now, long gone.

  
  
Shuffling through her room, Bjorg simply picked out some clothes from a stash of ones that were in the Schrodinger’s wearing zone - not too dirty to throw them into the wash, but also clean enough to wear. Simple black jeans, paired with a white shirt with the words ‘girl in red’ printed over in an aesthetic font, with a red tie-dye effect. This shirt in particular she had picked out from a thrift store, the person who sold her this shirt said it was from way back in 2019. The printing of the lettering was fading and a bit cracked, but it just added to the vintage look. She threaded her belt through the loops, clasped it tight to fit snug to her body, cuffed her jeans and picked out a pair of Vans to go with it, haphazardly kicking them over to the direction of her door. This was pretty much her standard look, minus the accessories.

  
  
Walking down the stairs, Bjorg was met by Irene, sitting down by the foot of the stairs and staring up at the stairwell, flicking her tail in anticipation of getting fed. Although, obviously, she already was, as she heard clattering in the kitchen - most likely her dad attempting to make cold brew coffee again after his disastrous round two days ago. Opting to just pet Irene on the head, Bjorg kneeled down to do so, the older calico cat giving a short purr as a response, nuzzling right into Bjorg’s hand.

  
  
 _“You’ve gotten cuddly, haven’t you?”_ Bjorg muttered to herself, Irene gently slamming her fluffy body down onto the floor in front of Bjorg’s feet , just as she got up to walk into the kitchen to make herself something to eat.

  
  
 _“Ah, morning, Bjorg! Why are you awake so early?”_ Her father questioned her, purely curious.

  
  
 _“Oh, work called me in because someone’s off sick.”_ Bjorg replied rather quickly, looking at the tall-ish contraption that was in front of her dad, coffee grounds sitting in the middle glass, a jug of water held by her dad to pour into the top. _“Are you playing with cold brew again?”_ She quipped, laughter behind her voice.

  
  
 _“Ah yes, yes I am… You need to eat if you’re gonna work, have my sandwiches.”_ The man pointed over to a plate that was sitting in the middle of the kitchen island.

  
  
_“What about you? And mum?”_

  
  
_“Mum’s eaten already, and I can always make myself something later, dear.”_ Her dad responded with a certain softness in his voice when referring to his wife, pouring water into the top glass, watching it drip down into the coffee grounds. He smiled, and made his way into the living room to do other things.

  
  
Bjorg simply looked at her dad with slight concern before facing the sandwiches, and took one of them - smoked German ham. It used to be her personal favourite a while ago, but that isn’t the case anymore. Still, food is food, and getting something into her stomach was going to be more important than getting fussy over some ham.

  
  
Once that was all done with, there was a confident, strong knock at the door. Someone coming in this early? Nah, it’s probably just her manager ready to pull her into work. There was a call from her mother from across the room that she would get the door, so Bjorg just left it, pouring herself a cup of water, listening in to who it could have been. The cold that was let in poured right over her feet, even in the comfort of where she was. As she drank the water, she could have sworn she heard her name, but not in a typical Norwegian accent. It was more… American. She even recognised the voice as someone who she worked with, someone who she recognised, but it was… Softer. Deeper. Much more gentle, as if something had sanded down the edges of this person. With this, Bjorg wrapped her head around the kitchen door that was almost directly opposite the front door, divided by a corridor. There, she saw her mother standing in the doorway, and in front of her, two men, both in thin jackets, shivering slightly. One taller one, with scars that adorned his face, and hair that was swept to one side. The second, much smaller, with large round glasses, and a glint that came from his arm as the sun struck the metal just right.

  
  
“Oh, Bjorg!” Robbie stopped his conversation halfway through, seeing the familiar face from deeper inside the home. With a small roll of her eyes that she hoped no one could see, Bjorg stood properly and walked over to the door, her mother simply waving, saying goodbye with the little English she had picked up from Bjorg. Something tried to pry it’s way to Bjorg’s conscious thought - an explosion of some kind. She bit down, cracked her thumb knuckle, and sent it away, forcing it back into the depths of her mind.

  
  
“If it’s about the posters about Plat that I’ve been seeing everywhere, I do not want to go back.” Bjorg instantly interjected the two of them - she knew they wanted to speak about that. Why else would they be here? She hadn’t seen them since the parting.

  
  
“Yeah uh, but first, can we be let in? It’s freezing out here and we forgot how bad Norwegian winters are.” Robbie asked, Wally nodded right by his side. With a slightly begrudged nod, Bjorg stepped aside and let them in, the men finding their way over to the living room after they had taken off their jackets and snow-covered shoes.

  
  
After the men had been warmed up enough to actually talk without straining, Bjorg sat in her armchair, leaning her weight against the armrest, one leg on top of the other, awaiting the two of them to state their reasons as to why they should bring her back in.

  
  
“Right so um... “ Robbie started, withering slightly under the harsh gaze of Bjorg’s. He obviously knew winning her over wasn’t going to be easy, and he definitely hasn’t missed the judgemental look that Bjorg would send down onto him when he had done something stupid.

  
  
“You’ve obviously seen that PlatFed is coming back. It’s trying to get all the original members back - as many of them as possible - to try and regain public trust. We all did get caught up in the mess during… _That_ time, but this is our chance to redeem ourselves.” Wally spoke, without having the intention of stopping. “We only need some help. You don’t have to go on missions - my God - we won’t force you to. We just need the guidance of one of our most esteemed scientists, and there are a lot of applicants that would enjoy your oversight, Bjorg.” He finished, noticing that Bjorg’s face hadn’t changed for the past minute or so. The silence that ensued was thick, to the point even her parents had retreated to the kitchen.

  
  
“Also, if you think we aren’t prepared to argue, we nearly had a chair thrown at us by Finn.” Robbie added, breaking the silence. Bjorg just looked to the side, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she imagined that scenario. However, it caused thoughts of experiments, laughter, field missions and little small interactions battling to try to take the forefront of her mind, but they quickly got shut down, pushed down, swallowed back into the void. She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose to help the process go faster. Overtime, it did get easier and easier, the suppression of memories. With a deep breath, Bjorg looked at the two, and swallowed, before beginning to speak.

  
  
“What do I get out of this though? More trauma? More people disappearing in front of me, either bleeding out or going missing? More of eating odd food when we have a food shortage because our supplier got taken over by a street villain group?” Bjorg shot at them, the two of them a little lost in what to say - they couldn’t deny that those things happened. “More shattering glassware, more arguments in the lab, more of those chaotically strict deadlines we have to meet, more exhaustion? I’m fine here, working in retail. It’s a bit mundane, but at least it lets me feel like a human again rather than superior over others.” She crossed her arms and flexed her ankle, waiting for them to respond.

  
  
“Well- you see, with this reboot, there shouldn’t be any more of that.” Robbie squeaked and cracked his knuckles, mostly from anxiety.

  
  
“How? Are there new magical protection systems? Technology can only go so far.” Bjorg shot back.

  
  
“No but, it’s going to be different people working. They’re… Better, in a sense, we have a big cohort coming in from multiple hero schools across the UK. I think we even have a student coming in from Japan, and countless STEM graduates coming in to do their masters and PhDs. It means they have the basic knowledge of what to do in a fight against villains, and such.” Wally leaned in, resting his elbows on his knees. “Even then, the training programmes that are in the works are going to be much better suited for these times, more so than the ones that were dictated by Bruce.”

  
  
“Since when were we providing a masters degree? We- PlatFed isn’t an educational institution, right?”

  
  
“Tell me this Bjorg, where did you do your PhD? Ah yeah, at Plat. Now then, we’re gonna need an answer by the end of today - the dropship isn’t going to be hanging around for too long.” Wally stood up, mechanical whirring coming from his leg as it took on his weight. Robbie stood up too, going over to grab his coat. Before he did so, he turned around on his heel.

  
  
“By the way, do you know any good places to visit in Bergen?” He asked, a little awkward. Bjorg stopped herself from laughing, and just smiled at him. It was forced.

  
  
“Just walking around town should do the trick.” She answered, the smile faltering, but not fading. “Nordens park is my favourite place to go so far, if you’d like somewhere to relax at.” Robbie just stuck a thumbs up, Wally having left to go to the dropship to unload the car that they had been given. Once both of them were outside, the dropship in a clearing in the forest in front of them was clearly visible, Bjorg crouched down in front of the closed door, her hands in her hair, trying to make sense of what to do. There was a prick at the inner corner of her eyes, and her face felt completely sour. Her fingers kept on running through her hair, massaging her scalp as a sort of comforting technique that barely worked. Her head felt heavy, feeling like a weighted blanket had been put over her right there and then. The burden under her eyes felt like it tripled, and her whole body quivered. It felt exhausting to feel something so extreme once more. It’s been years since she felt something as powerful as this. What was it… Was it regret? Denial? Longing for the return of something she was good at? Or anger, rooted in sadness and fear of having such a big decision to get to by the end of the day?

  
  
 _“What’s wrong?”_ Bjorg’s mother peeked in, her voice gentle, hoping she wasn't prying.

  
  
 _“Platinum Federation wants to take me back on board because it’s coming back. I don’t know what to do.”_ Bjorg stated, standing up straight, her voice stoic, hiding the fact she was extremely close to crying. Her hair looked a little disorganised.

  
  
 _“Oh honey!”_ Her mother came up to her, and hugged her. She was much shorter than Bjorg, even with her age starting to show and shrink her down. Bjorg let go of the breath that she knew she was holding, and hugged her mother back.

  
  
 _“I can’t do it.”_ Bjorg sputtered. _“I can’t go back there, not after all that has happened.”_ She clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from falling. One blink was all it took to get them out of her eyes, falling onto her mum’s gray shirt, turning little spots of it dark. Eventually, her mum pulled away and placed her hands onto Bjorg’s shoulders, patting them before beginning to talk.

  
  
 _“I may not be able to influence you, but all I know from all the phone calls and the media was that you were happiest when you were with Platinum. Your heroic smile that adorned the headlines after you and your team had done a mission correctly, for once, made me happy.”_ She joked, earning a muttery giggle from Bjorg. _“And it made me happy because you were happy too. It’s your choice, Bjorg, you’re 36 now. You should know these things, I can only help guide you at my ripe old age.”_ Placing a hand on Bjorg’s cheek, she gave her signature comforting smile. Bjorg just nodded into it and placed her own hand over hers, wiping her tears with her other. _“Whatever your choice, me and your dad will always be here to support you, and Norbert.”_

 _  
_ _  
_ _“I know.”_   
  


* * *

  
  
Some time had passed since Robbie and Wally had shown up at her front door. She already called in to work to say that she couldn’t make it for today, since some family matters had come up. When asked for a further explanation, she just said her mother had to get driven to hospital, just to stop the questioning.

  
  
Being back up in her room made her more and more devoid of whatever she had left, but it gave her the privacy she needed. Any feeling, physical or emotional, gone. Her face felt dead, heavy. As if it could just be chipped off and made into a mask. She stared blankly at her wall, eyes glazed over as she ventured into her own mind, deciding what to do. Should she go back to Platinum, and get everything thrown at her at once? All the memories of her experiments, the field mission, the small talk in the kitchen… Seeing people like Finn, Robbie, and Wally together, smiling. Different from the pictures that they had shown her from the Caithyan war. Everything happened there. It was the centre of her life, and she couldn’t have imagined that that was her job. It felt effortless to do what she did - biomedicine. She knew all the little bits of the body and what they did, she knew how it worked and what it’s functions were, and most of the drugs that did something to the body. She kind of knew how to integrate an external, synthetic system to match the one with the body, to make prosthetics work seamlessly. To cut it short, she knew a lot, and how to do it. Finn said she was one of the best - but she thought otherwise. She knew someone who was on par with her, or even better than her - Maeve. Maeve was… Incredible. They were put into the same lab by Aisha, who co-governed all divisions throughout PlatFed before it’s status crumbled. Bruce only needed to approve, and even then, he approved basically everything. From that day onwards, it was a rollercoaster. Maeve made her feel like she was on cloud nine one day, and down in the depths of Satan’s asshole the next. One would even consider that the peak of her career - since it made her forget. Maeve made her forget all her worries, all her tasks that she needed to do, all the pain that she had held before seemed to melt away when she was around her. Up until she vanished.

  
  
Tears patted onto the laminated wood floor below, breaking Bjorg away from her thoughts. Her heart ached, like she'd been shot right through it. She crumpled down, her back parallel to the floor, and cried, gripping at her chest until her knuckles turned white. She had to let herself cry eventually, to let it out. Through instinct, she reached for the wine bottle that was by her, but inside, she knew she shouldn’t. She can’t keep going like this, drowning out anything she didn’t like with wine. Especially if she was going to go back, she was going to have to give it up. Her arm went limp and dropped to her side, and she pulled her head up, not even wanting to see the state of herself right now. If she just… Went to her job, pretended like none of this ever happened, she could have just carried on as normal.

  
  
There was a tug though. A pull, a desire to continue and chase after the opportunity she had been given. It felt terrifying, as if one was about to throw themselves into the air whilst bungee jumping. Leaving her job right now would result in a couple of people being pissed off with her… But it would be worth it. But then again… She’d have to leave her parents. They did manage without her or Norbert, her brother, for ages already. Her leg started shaking, her heel making contact with the ground each time it bounced back down. Then her other leg, the bounces alternating constantly, her elbows now resting on her knees. Why was it so hard to decide? Was there something she was missing that made her feel like she couldn’t go? She’s been there once before, so why isn’t she already packing to go for seconds? Taking a deep breath, her bounces slowing down, she looked around her room for a moment - took it in. She’s left this place already. She had the necessary things, she could be in the middle of packing right now if only she had more of an idea what she was facing. Something was bound to be different. The absence of Maeve was obviously going to be a thing, but everything that had been left before PlatFed closed was still there. She’d have to go through all of that and unpack it, once more. It’s going to be like opening new wounds.

  
  
But living through pain temporarily to get what you’d want is worth it, right? _Right?_

  
  
After minutes (that seemed like hours) of thought and ruminating, Bjorg finally lifted her body from the edge of her bed. If there was victorious music, it would probably be playing in the background right now. Eagerly searching for something that she could pack about a week’s clothes in, her mind filled with new scenarios. It still felt like a weight that dragged her, but she had been given the key to unshackle it from herself. All she had to do was turn it.

  
  
Picking shirts off from hangers and taking out jeans and trousers from her shelves, she packed them somewhat neatly into a black duffel bag that she usually used when she was working out. The last time she used it must have been back when she was 16. It was still cool though - it was canvas, that was lined inside with a plastic-like material, and had compartments in it. Various patches adorned the opening flap, ones that she had probably already lost interest in.

  
  
Soon after she was packed, ready to go, the bag on her back and her shoes picked up from nearby the door, Bjorg went downstairs, and looked at both of her parents with a stern-ish, determined look, despite her eyes being bloodshot and her shirt crumpled.

  
  
 _“I think… I think I want to go back to Platinum.”_ Bjorg stated, the words feeling like they had to be forced out of her to even say them. A sniff came from her, clearing her nose up really quickly. Her parents on the other hand, looked at her and smiled, her mother sitting in the armchair where Bjorg sat before, her husband right behind her. Saying those words once more made her feel like she’s 19 again, raring to go to England to get an education there. Most of the memories of that time happened to be blocked though, hidden away, and for good reason.

  
  
 _“That’s good, lovely, what do you need?”_ Her father spoke, Bjorg just biting her lip in thought.

  
  
_“I don’t think I need anything else… Everything is already there.”_

  
  
_“A hug, maybe?”_ Bjorg’s mother spoke, standing up from the chair, walking up to their daughter and giving her an unprecedented hug. Quickly, her dad joined in, the two of them having huge smiles on their faces. _“You’ll do good, Bjorg. Remember that you can always go back to Bergen when you’d need it.”_

 _  
_ _  
_Once the two of them pulled away, Bjorg was beaming. It did feel a little fake, but her body knew her better than her mind did. With her shoes put on, her coat on her back, and her bag slung over her shoulder, she grabbed her house keys and opened the door, feeling like she was about to be born anew. Doubt brewed in the back of her head, but each time it did, she knew she was doing something good, for herself, or for others. The three of them waved to each other as Bjorg left the house, heading for the clearing in the forest.

  
  
Checking her phone, the time was roughly 8pm. The boys couldn’t have been wandering for a long - Bergen was kind of small and quick to whizz around, at least in her opinion, with not much to see either. The snow under her feet crunched as she stood next to the dropship, the ramps closed up. Conveniently, she heard the buzz of an engine and headlights that lit up the snow underneath her. The car shut down, landing into the snow, and both Robbie and Wally left the car, smiling.

  
  
“Look who it is!” Robbie called out, grinning, hitting a button on a set of keys that opened up the ramp of the dropship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, if you do read this lmao!!
> 
> I'm going to try my best to write more chapters in between college and all that jazz, so publishing chapters might be a bit slower than expected!
> 
> -Shadow


	2. Settling in

Bjorg jolted awake at the first sign of turbulence. She hadn’t flown in a plane in such a long time so it wasn’t a surprise to her that she wasn’t going to get any sleep before making landfall. Wally and Robbie were sitting in front of her in the pilot seats, seeing that assisted flight was on, the words plastered across the entire screen that acted as the control board. The two of them weren’t talking amongst each other, but their faces were buried into their phones. Was that… Who was that on Robbie’s home screen? That was probably something to ask him later. Did his disappearance in the early Division S days grant him something… Or someone? Moving on - it wasn’t her business, and she probably had no right to involve herself in something so personal.

  
  
“What time is it?” Bjorg asked no one in particular. She might as well be asking the question to herself, “And where are we?”

  
  
“Nearly 11PM. And we’re nearing landing.” Wally replied almost instantly, as if he was ready to answer that question for a while. For an answer, Bjorg just hummed and rested her head on her hand, deciding to look out of the windows. One thing she loved about the dropships that Plat had in their fleet was the fact that the cockpit was mostly glass - reinforced, of course. The only bit that wasn’t glass was some of the flooring and a thin part of the ceiling. Through the panes, she could see all the cities that they were flying over - today was a particularly clear, cloudless night. The darkness of Cotswolds, dotted with tiny specks of light for the towns and villages that were within it. Beyond it, there were larger cities, like Reading, Southampton, Bournemouth, and she just managed to catch the outskirts of London. Ahead of them, was Bristol, lit up in a bright cluster of whites and yellows. Next to it, was Port Hero - her second home. It had Platinum Federation housed within it, closer to the water, and Storytime Heroes, who were somewhere in between Port Hero and Bristol. Bristol Airport glistened below them as they decreased their altitude.

  
  
Landing went by smoothly - thanks to the advancements in AI since Division S. Bjorg would need to add fingers to her hands if she wanted to count how many times a landing had been wonky, unsatisfactory or even completely failed. Majority of the time the pilot had to take manual steer to keep everyone onboard alive and seeing tomorrow. The three of them exited the ship via a side door, the ramp in the back opening automatically. The car that was in the back turned on by itself, hovering above the ground a couple of inches, and flew out of the back, making its way to the parking lot.

  
  
“Since it’s basically 11PM, I guess we should get you booked in for the foreseeable future, isn’t it?” Robbie grinned, turning to Bjorg. The woman adjusted her bag and nodded. “You might get your old studio flat if you’re lucky, over at the 20 storeyed blocks. Let’s get going then.” 

As they went over to the lobby, Robbie and Wally scanned in with their IDs. Bjorg on the other hand, lacking an ID, had to go through several biometric tests. When it granted her access and even recognised her as a previous member, all her details correct, she quietly wondered if the system would still recognise Maeve.

  
  
Upon entering, the air had a hint of staleness in it, the building not having been touched in literal years. Incoherent yelling could be heard down the stretch of the corridor that led over to the old part of Division A, with furious scrubbing and a tinge of white spirit hovering in the air. Repainting? Maybe. That area was always filled with stenches and stains of all kinds.

  
  
“Bjorg?” Wally looked over at her, the woman in question snapping back to the present. The much shorter man was already making his way over to the lab area, which was a shortcut over to the living blocks.

  
  
“Oh, sorry, I guess I got too lost in my thoughts…” Red in the face, she quickened her pace to catch up with them. Walking through this area again made her feel hollow. The liveliness that was once here, the spirit, the buzzing of brains as they worked together had vanished. If anything, it made her feel more and more like an empty husk of a human. The ground had coloured lines painted at the edges which were used as a sort of navigation, the bright red line that was once there had been stripped off, leaving an empty lane amongst the others. Seeing that red line again would probably elicit a mixed response.

  
  
“... been here before, so you know the way around, yeah?” Robert smiled, walking backwards, with his hands behind his back.

  
  
“Yeah, I know the way. When will I get my ID?”

  
  
“Probably tomorrow, before the opening ceremony. By the way, you’ve been asked to attend as one of the speakers. Alongside Finn, myself, and Genevieve.” The man turned back around, his hands now landing in his pockets.

  
  
“Who’s Genevieve?” Bjorg furrowed her brows, her free hand landing in her pocket.

  
  
“Oh, um.” A brief moment of silence rang throughout all of them, Robert and Wally exchanging unidentifiable glances. “She’s my girlfriend, we met at the Tokyo mission.”

  
  
“You met at the Tokyo mission and didn’t say anything? Is that why you decided to stay in Tokyo and got me worried for nothing?” Bjorg raised her voice somewhat, a hoarseness being more apparent the more she spoke. “Don’t tell me you have kids too! Well, it has been years since that mission anyway.”

  
  
Robert just let out a half-sarcastic chuckle.

  
  
“Ahaha, yeah… We actually do.”

  
  
“WHAT?!” Bjorg’s hand ventured up to her face, gently pulling at the skin just outside of her eye. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” She declared, with a chipper note in her voice, earning a chuckle from the two men and a nod.

  
  
Once the two of them had walked Bjorg over to the lobby of the block and said goodnight, Bjorg entered the main lobby. A holographic AI showed up behind the counter. It looked pristine and humanlike, in a dapper tuxedo. Much unlike the countless spiderwebs in the corners of the room, and the dull, worn out carpet. If Bjorg remembered correctly, it was one of those typical lobby carpets, only a dark gray with brightly coloured PlatFed logos. You’d think that with such a grand opening, the building would have gotten put through the wash twice already. Looks like it wasn’t the case.

  
  
Bjorg put her hand onto the biometric scanner that was embedded into the counter, the AI sprung to life.

  
  
“Hello, Bjorg Sigrun, Callsign: Isbjorn. Permissions Class: Legacy. What can I do for you tonight?” The AI’s robotic voice rang throughout the lobby. Permissions class? That’s new.

  
  
“Um… I’d like to rent a studio flat for the foreseeable future. Deduct the costs from my salary directly.” It felt alien to ask for that again. The first time she did was when she was moving from a tiny, shady apartment in the middle of London and into PlatFed. Even then, she only had the status to rent one of those flats that were similar to those tiny houses that were popular back in the early 2010s.

  
  
“Granted. Your room is 173. Thank you for your continuation of our service.” The AI gave a stiff wave, and shut off. Floor 17, Room three. That would have been a trek up if the elevators didn’t function. Thankfully, they did, and Bjorg entered the main one that was just ahead of her, and hit the number 17.

  
  
The way up seemed to take forever. Bjorg, with her chaotic, metaphorically overgrown brain, dependent on the lifeline that any kind of alcohol gave, was out of place. Definitely, majorly out of place. Platinum was the face of Port Hero - it’s why anyone ever came here, and to neighbouring cities. It’s renowned for its amazing, state of the art technology, it’s breakthroughs in science and magnificent manpower that could always be deployed within minutes of request. Bjorg no longer felt like she fit in. She no longer had the physical abilities that made her an amazing field medic, she no longer had the capacity to work diligently, all the time, to pursue a new invention that could help the world. She no longer had the drive to continue something so simple as breathing. There were days, even weeks, where she longed to just fall into a deep, deep sleep, and maybe reawaken at a better time. Curse the circadian rhythm.

  
  
Thankfully, the ‘ding’ of the elevator and the swoosh of the opening doors snapped Bjorg out of her lousy daydreams. She stepped into a small space, there being only four metal doors, which had a veneer over them to make them look wooden. If you looked at the building from above, you would notice it made a cross. At each door was a cutout with a black panel, which was motion activated. As Bjorg walked up to her door, the panel came alive in patterns of red, then green to signify the de-arming of the security system. A simple press of the hand onto the panel, and the door split into two, with a quiet hiss and buzz as it slid open to the sides. It creaked a little, probably from the lack of use. The rail at the bottom was lit up by a strip of luminescent wire, lit in green. It turned red as Bjorg stepped in, the door behind her closing, a whirring of the lock and a ‘ping’. The security of the dorms was much more advanced already. With a glance behind her, the outskirts of the door lit up in blue, she let go of her bag, placing it just in front of her door.

  
  
“Lights.” Bjorg simply called out, the whole flat becoming illuminated by a warm hue, slowly increasing in intensity until they reached maximum. There was everything that she might have needed - a double bed, pressed against the wall over to her left where she stood, a bathroom to the right, and a kitchen in front of her, with an island, and a bar in front of it. Over to the right as well was an indent in the wall, which was space for clothing and storage. It was just before the bathroom door. At the foot of the bed was a holopad TV stand - you just link your holopad with the stand, and it will automatically set everything up to your preferences. 

With one deep breath, followed by a cough from all the stagnant dust suddenly moving and floating around, the Norwegian woman just ran her hand through her hair, peeled her shoes off of her feet, kicked them to the side. She beelined straight for the bed, throwing the dusty duvet off of it and onto the floor, laying down onto the mattress. Nearly retreating at how hard it was, a huff came from her - the floor might be more comfortable at this point. Honestly, it just went to show that she had to do some shopping for this home already. A new mattress, a chest of drawers, nightstands, new stools that were more to her liking. She was going to live here after all, again, so making it homely was probably somewhere up high on her priority list. In the midst of loose, nonsense thoughts, Bjorg’s eyes began to shut, her body drifting off to sleep, exhaustion taking the better of her. The lights soon dimmed too.

* * *

A colossal wave of anxiety washed over Bjorg as she realised she had to speak today, for the opening ceremony. It shook her awake to the point she would have bounced off of the bed and onto the floor if she hadn’t caught herself. Groggy, and still sleep ridden, the woman pulled herself off of the bed and forced herself to stand, even on unsteady feet. What she hadn’t realised is that as she eased off of the dependency of her favourite wines, she was going to suffer through repercussions. With a pounding headache and crackly joints, Bjorg just went to get herself ready in the oddly clean bathroom, and after she was finished she shivered over to her bag to pick out a set of fresh, vaguely formal clothes - some slacks and a plain, collared shirt that clung to her body a little more than she remembered. As she thought about getting settled in, she knew she was going to have to phone her parents and get them to send more stuff over to her as time goes on. Of course, that was something to do later - the primary focus right now was to get to the main assembly hall and give out some kind of inspirational speech. Forcing on her Docs, she laced them up and headed out of the door, readying herself mentally. Of course, she had no idea what to say.

The closer Bjorg got to the main hall, the more she could hear the bustling, the excitement of people, scientists and future heroes alike. It was bound to overwhelm her at some point.

  
  
“Ah, Bjorg, you’re here! We’re nearly starting,” Finn was dressed up in the core of what his hero suit was - mostly just the base layers, with a couple of his belts with all sorts of vials missing. Someone that she didn’t recognise passed by and handed him his robe, which he clipped over himself. “Have you thought of what to say?”

  
  
“N-no, not really.” Bjorg replied, sheepishly. Her voice still hadn’t woken up, and it had definitely changed. It wasn’t as bright or vivid as it was in the past, sounding barren. It definitely wasn’t as English as it was before, her Norwegian having crept back into her speech without much trouble.

  
  
“Oh, that’s alright then. You don’t need to speak, just be up onto the stage, if that’s the case.” Finn’s voice was particularly gentle, laced with worry. “Can I speak to you afterwards? In the labs, if that’s alright with you.” Bjorg approved of his request and followed Finn over to the backstage. 

“Eeeeeeverybody!” A voice called in through the speakers, booming loudly, making everybody in that hall fall silent. Both Bjorg and Finn managed to make it on time, scurrying over to the backstage, seeing Robbie handling the microphone next to a person who Bjorg assumed was Genevieve. “Welcome to Platinum Federation! Before you, comes the big three - Witch Doctor, Roulette, and Isbjorn! Along with a special guest who had come straight from Japan - Iris!” Bjorg assumed this was the cue for them to come onto the stage - and so she did. She was the last one out, standing next to Genevieve. If she had to be honest, she felt extremely out of it, and all the eyes on her didn’t make it any easier. Actually, it made her feel ridden with pressure to make every movement of her’s perfect, with no room for mistakes.

“Glad to see a lot of new faces, and old ones too. This time, PlatFed will come back in full force - we have updated numerous guidelines, and refreshed the systems. Some of you may notice that the building hasn’t been fully cleaned yet - this is still a work in progress. We had only gotten access to the building some two odd days ago. If you’d like to help, feel free to!” Finn laughed, the crowd followed suit. “I would also like to announce that I am the new head of Platinum Federation. Whatever Sir Santiago had left since the beginning, he has passed it on and left to me. I hope that with this new leadership, I will lead us into newer, greater heights, and make the world a better place once more.”

  
  
The masses erupted into cheers and claps, and a whistle here and there. Finn just smiled through it, soon raising his hand slightly so that the people settled. Bjorg just held her breath as a tactic to slow herself down.

  
  
“I’d also like to announce that we have a new structure system in place. Division A is now split into teams A, B and C. Division R and S have merged, and are now just known as Research, split into departments. There are new policies on submitting and creating work within the research wing. Speaking of the teams and the research wing, I’d like to also announce some new heads - Albrecht and Roulette will now oversee all the teams, whereas Isbjorn will oversee the research wing.”

  
  
Whatever emotion Bjorg showed to everyone there, she hoped it was happiness, and not a melancholy, saddened nod. Her lack of thoughts ended up drowning out the roars of the crowd, whistles and yells.

  
  
“Well then!” Roulette called through the microphone, a wide grin on his face as he caught the attention of the audience once more. “Those of you that have been here before, you know the layout of this magnificent building. Those who weren’t here, we have specialised tours for you, and tutorials for things, now uploaded onto the portable holopads you have been given upon entry. Don’t hesitate to get lost!” He laughed, everyone else joining in.

  
  
Bjorg heard snapping of fingers behind Robbie’s back - indeed, it was Finn beckoning her to speak with him. With a deep breath, anxiety welled up within her as if on command. She complied, following him out of the backstage door, and through to the labs. On the way there, neither of them exchanged words, but both could begin to guess what the conversation was going to be about. Shortly, the two of them had reached the old Division S labs, Finn scanning into his old lab - it used to neighbour Bjorg and Maeve’s shared lab. Before the woman could say anything, Finn crossed his arms and began to speak, the door closing.

  
  
“Have you been drinking?” The skinnier, Scottish man questioned. “You look terrible.”

  
  
Bjorg, taken aback by the sudden question, drew her eyes over to a pile of rotting boxes. The air was dense, like an overtightened string on an instrument, threatening to snap. It’s not like Finn would disappear if she looked away anyway -

  
  
“Answer me, Bjorg. I cannot have another Robbie situation, not with you.”

  
  
“Yes, yes I have, now I said to myself literally yesterday that I will stop because it made me feel like shit.” Bjorg grabbed a chair from under one of the counters and sat down in it, slumped. “I hesitated when I was meant to be up on the stage because I knew I looked like crap but like, everyone wanted me there. So I went up anyway.”

  
  
Finn kneeled down, concern written all over his face, and he reached his hand to hold Bjorg’s - more for comfort than anything else.

  
  
“It’s okay, Bjorg. We all do have bad days - now I would tell you to cut it off cold turkey, but that isn’t how it works, is it?” He chuckled, smiling. His hero side was shining through his seemingly fragile exterior. The woman just shook her head, looking away. Eye contact felt far too intense for her right now. “Little by little, we can get you out of this loop, isn’t it?” He patted her hand before rising to stand. “Well then, I’ve got stuff to answer and zip around Plat again - You’re logged onto your old lab, if you wanted to start cleaning it out already.” With a simple thumbs up, Finn opened the door via a simple swipe of his hands.

  
  
Motion control? The thing she was previously begging to get installed was finally implemented? Bjorg watched him leave, his cape following behind him, still sitting in the chair. Would she have a cape following behind her soon too, once she got back up to standard with all the criteria to be a field medic once more?

  
  
Eventually, Bjorg got up from the little chair, her joints creaking and cracking in all sorts of tones. Repeating the same motion that Finn had done to open the door, she found herself outside in the corridor, looking down the path to get to her old lab. Yes, it was right next door, but the more she looked, the further away it felt.

  
  
It was finally time to face her past, huh?

* * *

After hours of unpacking delicate lab glassware, going through a box of old polaroids, memories long forgotten embedded into the paper, and a handful of random, miscellaneous items, Bjorg was basically finished with her lab. There was a pile of cardboard boxes on one side of the room, and everything that needed to be put away was placed onto the island in the middle. In no time, all the things were put away into cupboards, drawers and shelves, just how Bjorg liked them, the dust sweeped and the floors cleaned.

  
Collapsing into a spinny chair that had a reasonable layer of dust on it, a breather was much needed. Cleaning and sorting non-stop did have it’s perks - it kept her hands occupied, and her mind, especially when music was to play in the background. With the sun just going beyond the horizon, visible through the window over where the sinks were, Bjorg leaned back, spinning idly. The sun did set much later than in Norway - with it currently being the middle of January, she guessed that it was about four in the afternoon already. The ceremony happened at ten in the morning. Six hours spent on just getting the lab up to her standards? Fuck. She used to work much faster than this.

  
  
A quick mussing of her hair, and she got up, not before there was a knock at the door. A simple swipe towards the door, and it hissed open.

  
  
“Hello, Miss Sigrun!” A young man, in his early twenties, was at the door, holding a holopad and a holopen. His nails were painted in a shimmery purple colour that was already chipped off halfway. There was a light dusting of some kind of powder on his cheeks, and his build was muscular enough that you could tell this man worked out regularly. Bjorg just cringed slightly at the fact she was called ‘Miss’ - she’d never heard a more British accent or mannerisms. “I’m Sam Williams, and I do the um…” He tapped his pen against his temple, “The hero costumes for Plat, now. I’m friends with Wally, if that helps.” He gave a big, warm smile.

  
  
“Oh, I don’t really.. I don’t think I’ll be doing fieldwork this time around, though.” Bjorg fidgeted, one of her hands reaching for her forearm behind her back, a timid smile tugging at her lips.

  
  
“Ah, well, Wally himself said that you’d need one eventually.” The man rocked back and forth on his heels once, twice. Bjorg merely shrugged.

  
  
“Well then tell him that for the time being, don’t give me field assignments, or I will personally bust his kneecap with a firework.” The woman laughed, albeit it felt… Weird. She’d just met this person.

  
  
“I’ve got to ask this though, is there something you’d like in particular?”

  
  
“I guess something… Armoured, flexible, but isn’t too loose. Maybe something like a lab coat over it, to add some dimension. Something that if you saw me, you’d recognise it as Isbjorn, and not an ordinary scientist.” A smile warmed her face as she imagined what it would look like. Sam was furiously scribbling notes onto his holopad, little sketches filling it already.

  
  
“Right, thanks.” Sam half-muttered, his voice still chirpy, as he turned on his heel and made his way back over to where he needed to be. Probably somewhere in the workshop areas, if Bjorg had to guess. Before the door got to close, Sam came rushing back, holding a card in his hand. “I was meant to give this to you, sorry!” He handed it over, and basically ran back to his intended place.

  
  
Her ID. The picture was still old - when she had much shorter hair, and brightness in her eyes. This obviously meant it was going to be temporary, a placeholder, if you may. Yet, seeing the words ‘Head of Research’ printed just under her picture made a chill slowly spread throughout her body, each nerve frozen in place. It was real. Official. She ran the research wing - something she never thought was possible to achieve.

  
  
The first day was almost conquered, with little tidbits here and there to do. Tomorrow though, was going to be a much bigger day - technically, it will be her first official day as the head of the research wing. Whilst she didn’t know exactly what it would bring, she prayed that it would get her sunken into work enough to forget about her worries, to forget about drinking, to forget about the memories tied within the place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another day, another chapter
> 
> thanks for reading <3


	3. Introductions

It neared 9PM, the same day. The disaster of the ceremony was already long forgotten, and the aches from cleaning the lab were still present. Bjorg’s idle hands were kept pretty busy, still, with just a laptop at her desk. Sorting through hundreds upon thousands of projects, files and downloaded PDFs was so, so fucking daunting. It had to be done though - old, stale projects and ideas went out, making way for new ones. Each time a new project got opened, she remembered exactly what she was thinking at that moment. How it was going to be so amazing and such a good thing to make - but it always backfired. Something was wrong, or there weren't enough safety features to have it qualified for use. In the end, they didn’t mean anything to her anymore. They were just empty projects worth nothing.

  
  
Sitting hunched over, Bjorg stretched, letting out a quiet groan as she did so, her spine crackling here and there. At times it felt like her ribcage had been unlocked and allowed to move. Glaring at a screen, eyes unblinking for hours definitely wasn’t the epitome of health. With each break she took, her gaze landed on the window, her mind recreating scenes, images, events that had taken place just right in this lab. Each time, a nose scrunch, a slight shake of the head and they vanished. Where exactly? Not even Bjorg knew - more like, she didn’t want to know. As long as they were gone it was going to be all okay for her.

A loud, metallic knock sounded at her door, causing Bjorg to raise her hand and swipe it sideways to open the behemoth of a door.

  
  
“Oh, hey Wally.” Bjorg leaned back in her chair, one leg over the other, her arms crossed. “What calls you to the labs at this hour?” One of her eyebrows perked up.

“I’m testing the new Hermes AI.” Walter stepped in, holding a tablet. “I don’t have to go through every room yet, but since you’re using this one, I might as well get it done for you.” He smiled, pushing his round glasses further up his nose. Bjorg just nodded, giving him a shrug, letting him reign free.

  
  
“Is it an upgrade from Artemis? Well- obviously.”

  
  
“Yup! It is. Artemis was getting pretty outdated even before we closed, actually. I started working on the Hermes code with a couple of other people about midway through ‘68. There’s a lot more features and he flows a lot more like a real human.” Wally looked up at one of the ports which would connect him to the system manually, and plugged his tablet into that. The upload started almost immediately. “He’s also going to be fragmented, so someone like Penny and Finn can communicate faster. I guess it’s like a Plat only communication system?” He pondered, then shrugged. After a couple of minutes, his tablet pinged, followed by Wally basically ripping the cable out of it and letting it dangle.

  
  
“Is that it?” The woman questioned, looking at him with furrowed brows. The man nodded.

  
  
“Hey Hermes, do the set up sequence.” 

The room was flooded in green light, which slowly shifted over to blue. Each device in that room made a small xylophone noise - Bjorg’s phone, her laptop, the spare holopads in the charging dock. Even the lights turned off and on, now connected to the AI.

  
  
“Hello, Hermes here, the Platinum Federation AI. What would you like me to do for you tonight?” The voice didn't sound robotic at all - it was smooth, free flowing, and felt almost like it was a prerecorded sentence altogether. Wally and Bjorg looked at each other, grinning. Something finally worked in this place!

  
  
“Set this room as Bjorg’s lab.” Wally spoke, his voice far happier than it was just a minute ago.

“Done! Syncing settings…” The lights breathed a sharp blue colour before flicking back to normal. “Done!”

“Since when do we have RGB lighting in the labs? And better locks on the doors?” Bjorg asked, rising from her chair. She might as well go back to her little flat and get some sleep, right? Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, an unease washing over her. It still felt… vague. With the knowledge she was going to hide away in this lab for a considerable amount of time, it was funny, really. The vagueness came from the fact that she was probably going to be alone in her lab, as before, with limited contact by her own choice. The funny aspect? It felt like history was repeating itself. Her coming into Plat for the first time, with Artemis getting installed for the first time, to being introduced to a lab… But this time she was far more experienced.

  
  
“Honestly, this building has changed a lot since the shutdown. I assume though that the people who placed the ten statues at the front could be the culprits.” He gave a nervous chuckle, fixing his glasses one last time, making Bjorg snap out of her thoughts. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bjorg. Oh yeah - don’t be surprised if someone shows up tomorrow.” He shot a finger gun, and left. 

Again. Left alone in the room again. What space would the AI fill? The void that was carved out and left by you-know-who? Or would it just be something she barely used, for things like checking the weather or seeing the deployment status of teams. She scanned her lab, slowly shutting her laptop and taking it into her hands, a little uneasy, stiff. A deep breath, her fingers drummed against the surface of the laptop as they waved against it. Nevermind that. Someone new was going to be in her lab? By tomorrow?

“Hey, Hermes?” She called out into the room. The room, once more, was clad in gentle blue light. “What exactly can you do?” 

“I can do _literally_ anything. For starters, how would you like the lights to show in this room when you ask for me?”

  
  
“Um... “ Bjorg looked around, thinking. “Just the lightstrip above the door is fine. Don’t turn all the lights to your colour.”

  
  
“Alright! You should ask Walter Bolts for a full tour of what I can do, if you’re unsure.” All the lights returned to normal a couple of seconds after the message was finished. Bjorg stood in the middle of her lab, a little lost. Whatever - she really should get some sleep.

Once the woman arrived in her flat, got herself ready for sleep, she found herself - well, her mind - wandering. A new person? Nah, no way. Bjorg herself is nowhere near good enough to take someone under her wing. But, if they were doing their PhD, they must be competent enough to work by themselves, right? What would they be like?

She found herself thinking just like someone she knew, and she hated it. Catching herself out was one thing, but knowing how to stop it was another. No. She wasn’t going to be like her, whatever amalgamation of a human Maeve is. Or was.

Clear thoughts soon turned incoherent, Bjorg drifting off to sleep for the rest of the night.  
  


* * *

“Hello, Dr. Sigrun!” A chipper, typically British accent entered the lab. The woman wasn’t particularly tall, hair pulled back into a ponytail, a little bit of a fringe framing her face. She clutched a folder in her hand, holding a closed holopad with her ring and pinky finger, pressing it in place so it doesn't fall out. Not only that, but a bright white lab coat clad her shoulders, and beneath it, a printed shirt, jeans, and Converse. At least it was lab appropriate?

  
  
Bjorg jumped a little when the door had opened. This fast? Her feet were up on the table, which quickly went down, and her coffee was set down with a loud _thunk._ At first glance, she could have sworn she saw this person before in her life. Upon second glance, there were enough differences to set them apart.

  
  
“Ah, you’re here.” Bjorg rose from her chair, her spine crackling gently as she did so. Age wasn’t forgiving. “You’re the new one, right?” She asked, her voice flat.

  
  
“Y-yes,” She sputtered, “My name’s Ava, um, Robinson, I um... “ Her eyes flitted off to somewhere else in the lab for a split second, then back to Bjorg, followed by a very short moment of silence. “I’m doing my PhD right now, under Plat. I work with meshing technology and biology together. Like, prosthetics that are fully functional and link to the brain.” The girl’s eyes lit up.

  
  
“Great. Half of the lab is yours.” Vaguely gesturing over to the opposite side of where Bjorg sat previously, she went back over to her seat. “Get whatever you need, I guess.” Returning to her laptop, she saw Ava still standing out of the corner of her eye. One last time, Bjorg looked at the other woman, who bounced on her ankles, going over to her half of the lab with her cheeks absolutely flushed. The older woman just gently shook her head and returned to her work. Thank god it’s a PhD student, or else she would have had to baby them a lot more than she would want to.

Hours passed by with not many words exchanged between them. Bjorg was aware that Ava knew a lot more about her than she probably expected, judging by the bright and almost explosive demeanour she presented before. Just like a young kid meeting someone that they admire. On the other hand, Bjorg just knew Ava’s name. And it was enough for her. Committing to personal relationships wasn’t one of her goals this time around. 

“Shit…” Ava hissed under her breath, a feeling of static building up in the room. It was followed by the characteristic sound of electric discharge, and a shattering pipette. It caught Bjorg’s attention, who swiveled in her chair to look at what had happened, expecting the worst.

  
  
“Shattering glassware on your first day?” Bjorg crossed her arms, watching Ava hurry over to clean up her mess, a small smirk tugged at her lips. Whatever attempt she was making at trying to be friendly was failing horribly.

  
  
“Sorry, Dr. Sigrun, it won’t happen again.” The girl was very obviously holding her breath after she said that.

  
  
“It’s fine. Glass is replaceable, lives are not.” Bjorg gave a smile, leaning her head on her hand, watching the other gather up the glass. Whilst Ava was crouched down out of sight behind the island in the middle of the lab, the older woman caught a glimpse of what the other was working on - it looked like cell cultivation, at best. A bottle of nutrient medium, a couple of stacked flasks with a layer of bright pink liquid settled at the bottom of each. “I hope you didn’t have anything important in that pipette.” She spoke, to which Ava popped her head up just over the counter and shook her head. “Alright, then.”

With not much left to say, Bjorg turned back to her laptop, idly scrolling through another article in search of something to do. While yes, she did look over a bunch of her old projects that she worked on and eventually dropped - none of them were good enough. She’s had an almost ten year break from making anything extravagant, filling in the dead spaces with a better solution for one thing or another, right up until she was forced to stop. Or well, rather chose to. 

A sigh echoed across the room, followed by Bjorg’s chair creaking as she leaned back to stare at the ceiling to spend a moment with her thoughts. What could she make?

  
  
“What’s wrong?” Ava spoke up, midway through disposing of glassware into its container. Great. Bjorg literally forgot there was another person in the same damn lab.

  
  
“Nothing, really, I just don’t really know what to do for my next project.”

“Would you like to avoid controversy, or head straight into it?” Ava joked, which did irk Bjorg a little. Not enough to actually get anything out of her, though.

“Avoid it, if possible, actually.” She slouched in her chair, resting her fist against her temple, her eyes fixed onto the floor to avoid eye contact.

“You could redo that resuscitation machine?” The younger suggested, sitting in her own chair, which was placed on the other side of the room. Bjorg recoiled slightly at the thought.

  
  
“No, that uses technology I don’t want myself associated with anymore.”

  
  
“But so does your gun.”

  
  
“That can-” Bjorg took a deep, annoyed breath. “It will be changed.”

A moment of thick silence settled between the two of them. Finally, after a couple of minutes, it was torn open again.

“You could help me on my project instead, maybe? You are meant to oversee it anyway, aren’t you?” Ava suggested once more, earning a… mixed look from Bjorg. Should she show at least a little interest…? Or just completely disregard the other?

“What’s the project about?” Bjorg looked up at Ava, with a much more obvious gaze - interest. However fake or real it looked, it didn’t really bother Bjorg.

“Well, my ultimate goal is to integrate prosthetics with a real nervous system. Right now I’m just working on getting cell cultivars done and getting them to interact with an interface. I do hope that in due time I can get a synthetic nerve-like and muscle-like material that will work well enough.” Ava spoke, seemingly proud of herself that she somehow managed to capture Bjorg’s interest. 

“So basically what you’re saying is you want to mimic the activation of a synthetic muscle fiber?” Bjorg asked, waiting for a response. Ava just… Sat there for a couple of seconds.

  
  
“Yes?”

  
  
“Synthetic muscle already exists, so you can get that extremely easily nowadays, or even make it. But making cells that can interact with those can be a little tricky. You’ve got to make sure that the thermal and the chemical aspect of those are alright. Other than that, cell interactions aren’t really my area of knowledge.”

  
  
“So… What _is_ your area of knowledge?” Ava pried.

  
  
“Mainly biomed, and I dabble in little things here and there to expand on my knowledge.” Bjorg shrugged. “I thought you would have already known that.”

  
  
Ava looked down, face flushed, her hands on her knees and her arms straight. “Well, yeah I did…”

  
  
“So…?” Bjorg crossed her arms, one leg over the other now, rather annoyed. Ava’s confidence took a complete 180, and it keeps on doing that constantly. The other woman stayed silent for a moment longer, before Bjorg spoke again. “I know what things do and why they do it and how they look. Cell to cell interaction isn’t really my thing anymore. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go get some lunch.” The Norwegian got up and draped her jacket over her shoulder, swiping the air, the door whooshing open. It was followed by quick, muted, heavy steps of Bjorg’s docs as she made her way down to the nearest kitchen.

  
  
The kitchen itself was out of the way of the labs, just in case any contamination had decided to get through. It was decked out in just the necessary things - a stove, oven, kettle, a set of pots and pans that were hidden away in cupboards, and multiple mugs that were dragged in from home, or just happened to be there already. A sink was also there, along with countless counters and spaces to make things, alongside a small fridge set under one of the counters.

“Hey there, Bjorg.” Finn shot a grin at the woman. “How are things?”

  
  
“Normal.” She replied, whipping open a cabinet and taking out a mug. It had some random flowers printed on it - at this point the woman didn’t give a shit. “Things are, well, going as usual.”

  
  
A nod came from the man, him pouring himself a cup of coffee and turning around to lean on the counter. He squinted a little as he watched Bjorg pour herself some coffee too.

  
  
“Is there anything you want to ask me?”

  
  
“No?”

  
  
“Good. Mind joining us for training soon?” Finnegan suggested, sipping his coffee before cupping it in his hands to warm them up.

  
  
“Uh,” Bjorg began, thinking about her next words very carefully. If she did join in on the training, there was a high probability she would be sent off for a field mission sooner or later. Movement, or any kind of exercise did seem like it was going to be beneficial. However, as with everything, there’s the other side. Missions meant seeing people die before her again, to watch their eyes glaze over and have life drained from within them. To her, it meant feeling inadequate because she couldn’t save her teammates, and harmed those not on her side. How can someone call themselves a hero if they kill their enemies mercilessly by their own hand?

  
  
On the other hand, if she refused and didn’t join, everything would return to how it is currently. Hours upon hours spent clammed up in the lab, trickling assortments of chemicals in and out of glassware in hopes of reaching a new breakthrough. Days ignoring the hunger that stilled, spread and consumed, begging for a crumb to finally calm down. It was weeks expended at the cost of sleep and health, only to move a tiny bit further with whatever research was currently being looked at. It was all nighters, sunken eyes, gallons of coffee and energy drinks.

  
  
At first glance, both of the options were the same. Both carried dread and high stakes. Both had negatives and positives. Going out, but sacrificing mental health. Staying in, progressing with research, but forgetting to take care of oneself. Both unhealthy. But, one was better than the other - she was much more used to it, and she would have missed so many opportunities if she didn’t do it before.

“I can do training.” Bjorg nodded. It didn’t feel like anything. She didn’t feel like she was doing something wrong or right. It just… was mundane. Another choice that would lead her to doing something new. Just like accepting the fact she had another person within her lab.

  
  
“Really?” Finn stood, shocked. “I-I mean, thanks for taking up the offer, Bjorg! You can start tomorrow if you’d like.”

  
  
“Thanks, Finn.” The woman cracked a soft smile, going to sip her own coffee. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

  
  
“Yup, see you later.” Finn replied, making his way out of the kitchen and going the opposite way that Bjorg was going. Back to the lab was really the only way to go. Back to Ava’s insufferable little mumbling, crossed with quiet hums once in a while. To be fair, Bjorg wished that Hermes was going to get a music feature installed soon. ‘Still in the early stages, so it won’t happen within an hour, Sorry Bjorg.’ Was the last thing that Wally messaged her when she inquired about it.

  
  
Approaching the door of the lab, Bjorg swiped it open again. Her mind jumped to images of the lab absolutely destroyed, charred, halfway up in flames.

  
  
Nope. It was perfectly fine. Ava sat in her chair, spinning around in it as she waited for something to get done.

  
  
“Oh, hello!” Ava chirped, giving a wave. Bjorg simply dismissed it, sipping on her coffee as she walked in.

  
  
“I’ll be doing training from tomorrow onwards so the lab will probably be a better environment from then on.” Another sip of her coffee.

  
  
“Uh, yeah, that’s alright.” The other nodded, “I don’t see how it would get better?”

  
  
“I won’t be filling the lab and watching your every move.”

  
  
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing though?” Ava just raised her eyebrows, confused at the sudden onset of self-depreciation. The elder just huffed gently, running her hand through her hair. Is this who Bjorg was? The famous Isbjorn, saving people from harm, healing them with no questions asked, diligently researching to improve life for those laughing in the face of evil?

  
  
“Well- yeah? But I don’t like doing it, so there you go.” Bjorg sat down in her chair, putting one leg over the other. Ah fuck, she already had a mug in the lab.

  
  
“So why did you agree to take me in?” Ava inquired, still watching over whatever she was doing.

  
  
“I had no choice.”

  
  
“No choice? But you’re the head of the research wing. You have the power to refuse, so why didn’t you?”

  
  
“Because I can’t say no.” Bjorg replied, her tone sharper. An awkward silence fell between the two of them, feeling like a torn up string mixed with a broken vinyl player. “Look, Robinson, this back and forth isn’t going to do us any good. The lab will be emptier, letting you work more freely, yeah?”

  
  
“Y-yeah.”

  
  
“Then we have no issues between us.” She quirked her eyebrows up, downing her coffee. “Now then, let’s continue work.”


	4. Abhorrence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Descriptions of binge drinking and withdrawal

A slow turn of the lock and handle of a door. The quiet, yet discordant footsteps that followed inside, and the mishap of shutting the door too loud. The woman found herself in her house once again - blurry vision, off balance… starved. As she took her shoes off and attempted to get up the stairs, her feet kept on missing. Unsteady, she continued her trek upwards, holding onto the rail for dear life.

  
  
Once on the landing on the second floor, a light flicked on, directly from her parent’s room, followed by a pained, low groan.

  
  
 _“Bjorg? Is that you?”_ A familiar voice called out, tired and raspy. _“It’s 4am, sweetie, get to sleep.”_ Bjorgs mother emerged from deeper inside the room, and leaned against the doorframe, her eyes squinted. Her face was somewhat obscured by the way the light fell.

  
  
 _“Sorry ma, the party went longer than I thought it would.”_ Bjorg said, her vowels a little longer than usual. Her body managed to keep itself upright - so far, so good.

  
  
 _“Mmm, a party two weeks in a row?”_ Her mother questioned, rubbing her eyes with one hand and then crossing her arms. She saw the state Bjorg was in. Not fit to talk at all. The slight uneasiness she detected, the very stiff arm that held the rest of her up. All she could do is sigh. _“We’ll talk in the morning.”_

  
  
The light shut off, Bjorg knowing her mother had gone back to sleep after the floorboards stopped creaking. The woman made her way into her own room, supporting herself with the walls that seemed to cave in on her. Wanting to eat her alive, sloped in places they weren’t supposed to be, and the texture of the paint made her uncomfortable. Or was it the alcohol? Her mind was spinning just enough to have it feel enjoyable, but the effect was wearing off. After shutting herself in her room, her back against the door, she looked down and smiled at herself stupidly, a sense of regret settling in.

  
  
Bottle after bottle. Shot after shot. It still wasn’t enough.

  
  
That day started off with finishing work, her hands having a slight tremor to them - nothing that she couldn’t just hide away in her pockets, for no one to look at. Customers flowed in and out of the store she worked at, until one of her co-workers popped up. Their bright, vintage jacket felt blinding.

  
  
 _“Yo Bjorg! Wanna go out tonight? Kristoffer is holding a house party tonight!”_ They grinned, leaning against the counter with their elbow. Bjorg’s eyes lit up instantaneously.

  
  
_“Yeah! Pick me up later when I finish? Didn’t bring my bike today.”_

_  
_ _  
_ _“Hell yeah, I thought you weren’t in because it wasn’t parked,”_ They laughed, slapping the counter twice, _“See you later then, bucket head.”_

  
  
And time did pass. Albeit rather slowly, but it did. Just as the Norwegian woman was on the brink of sleeping, the bell rang from the front door. Closing up shop quickly, the two friends ventured to the parking lot.

  
  
The car was exactly the same as before. The dashboard was trashed with random packets of snacks, and the well of the passenger seat had a small collection of energy drink cans growing. The windows - fogged up, drops forming at the bottom. The leather of the seats was cracked, matted, and drained of colour, almost burnt in places. The fabrics have adapted to a recognisable hint of skunk - that flagship smell of weed. Bjorg was used to it by now and it quickly faded out of her attention. The exterior of the car did look alright - just as if it was on an off road trip somewhere in the forests. Coughing to life, the engine sputtered and choked as it was ignited. Eventually though, it did awaken, the sound of explosions melting into one, continuous hum.

  
  
 _“Man, this engine is beginning to die… I might have to get another car.”_ The friend hissed at themselves, beginning to drive to the house party. You could faintly hear their skin unstick from the shift stick and steering wheel.

 _  
_ _  
_ _“Another one to run down like this?”_ Bjorg laughed. _“Seriously though, you should probably look into getting a new car. This one is pretty old as it is.”_

 _  
_ _  
_ About 20 minutes later, the engine shut down and the two passengers hopped out of the car. A feeling of warmth and excitement radiated from Bjorg’s chest, feeling like two stars at the brink of colliding. Bass rumbled from inside the house, playing ‘20’s EDM throwbacks. Just wanting to feel that rattling through her body again was enough to get her running to the door. Bright, colourful lights could be seen through the poorly blacked-out windows.

Inside, multitudes of people were clamoured up together, all holding some kind of substance in their hands - alcohol, a joint, hell, even keys. Everything there felt right. It felt like home - nobody stared and looked at her, nobody even recognised her. It felt freeing. The atmosphere already felt revitalising - people having fun, fulfilling themselves. She could swear she caught a glimpse of a glowing fire from the garden, people huddled up to an empty, graffitied oil drum.

  
  
Tearing through the crowd, Bjorg managed to get herself to the kitchen. The counter was strewn with a wide selection of alcohol, music beginning to fade from her ears. Her mind was only fixated on the spirits within glass. Whiskey, wine, vodka, rum, more, more and more. To others, it looked like she was staring at the counter, her eyes and body unmoving. Right until-

  
  
 _“Bucket head!”_ Another friend of hers called out to her, slinging themselves on her shoulder. _“Good to see you!”_

 _  
_ _  
_ _“Marie! Its been too fucking long!”_ Bjorg beamed, giving the other a much needed hug. _“Care for a drink?”_ She asked, gesturing over to the assortment.

  
  
 _“Hell yeah! I’ve been saving your favourite, actually-”_ Marie opened up her inner pocket of her jean jacket (that was torn in, shoddily sewn up with a zipper) and reached to the back, revealing a full, unopened bottle of whiskey. The women laughed and grinned amongst each other for the rest of the night, making their way through the alcohol. 

As the night went on, people passed in and out. The night faded off into a wild blur, dancing, smoking cigarettes with others, politely refusing drugs. Bjorg wasn’t one to involve herself with anything other than alcohol. Kristoffer was still serving up beats, although they were some slower tunes to start to get the party closed off. Some people crashed on the couch, recovering. Others were trying to sober each other up, feeding and sharing various lengths of baguettes and pulling apart loaves of bread. Bjorg was neither of those people. Yes, it was 12am, and yes, she didn’t feel drunk at all, even if she did make it through most of the gifted whiskey herself. Her thumb was busy tracing the lips of another, in a separate room, locked away from the rest of the world. Ultimately, the same thumb was wiping her mouth, revelling in flavour, amber eyes surveying the woman before her. With no second thought, she kissed the other goodbye, wishing farewell.

More. More alcohol. She didn’t care if she mixed. She just wanted that spinny feeling again - the one that made her feel like she was fucking flying. More. The one that made the world feel like it revolved on her axis. The one that knocked her out with ease. _More._

  
  
_More._

  
  
_So, so much more._

_  
_ _  
_ So much that she almost went batshit in the kitchen trying to down two wines at once.

  
  
Kristoffer stopped her. He himself was sober, and didn’t really know Bjorg. But he knew when someone needed to stop.

  
  
 _“I’ll drive you back.”_ He looked at the woman, his hand gentle on her shoulder. _“Where can I drop you off?”_

 _  
_ _  
_ And she was back. Back at home, with not enough in her system. Not enough to make her feel satisfied, anyway. That car ride felt like it didn’t even happen, making her believe she somehow teleported to the front door of her house. Her fingers dug at the nape of her neck, nails digging in, tears beginning to prick at her dry eyes. Even the space between her brows was in pain from a slight misfire of nerves. Eventually, the watery beads made their way down Bjorg’s cheeks, meeting at her chin and dropping to the carpet - forming a small, wet patch on it.

Time seemed to skip. Again. Face smothered by her pillow and her duvet on the floor, Bjorg squinted at the light peeking through her sheer, pink curtains.

  
  
How was she downstairs now? With a glass of water in her hand, her mother staring at her with a less-than-impressed look? Oh, a hangover pill. That might probably help the dull headache that was searing into her head. 

_“... worried for you Bjorg.”_ Her mother’s voice was drawn to the forefront of Bjorg’s attention.

  
  
~~_“The state of you.”_ ~~

_  
__  
_A sniffle sounded from her, the steeled face clearly holding back tears. _“Tell us where you’ll be going next time, alright? And- no drinking next time, please.”_

  
  
~~_“What are you? Playing God?”_ ~~

_  
_  
In that exact moment, Bjorg broke. Her head rested on her mother’s shoulder, tears pooling in the fabric of the shirt. She didn’t know if she was shattered by the fact her mother picked up on her habit, or if the fact that she was basically banned from alcohol, or just from being unable to hold it in anymore. Her hands gripped at her ribcage, a kind of tight self-hug. Her mother just patted her twice on the back and stepped away, letting her daughter cry it all out for now. Maybe, just maybe they’ll speak later-

  
  
~~_“You’re sickening.”_ ~~

  
  
“...grun? Dr Sigrun?”

  
  
“Hello?”

  
  
Some time passed again, seconds or minutes, it wasn’t known. The setting of her kitchen had dissolved into nothingness, her body still plunged deep into feelings of grief, regret, being sickened with herself, wanting to change. A disconnected, distorted, accented voice kept on replaying through her mind, fragments of speech feeling like stabs to the heart.

  
  
“Is this normal?” A warmer voice echoed, poking through the deeper voices in the background. It didn’t sound like anyone Bjorg knew or remembered.

  
  
“Dr Sigrun?” Another echo. This time - a man. Her mind was blank, whatever her self-image of herself was at the time felt like it was floating amongst a void. A blank, distorted body, enveloped in darkness. It was terrifying, cold and distant, but a sense of comfort and familiarity resided within it as well. Almost as if she was there before.

She felt her body get moved, shattering her back to the present. Instantly, her eyes darted around, getting a grasp of her surroundings. Finn was in there - the only voice she was familiar with - the one that brought her back. She didn’t even recognise that his hand was gently holding Bjorg’s head by the chin. Everything about this felt surreal. Behind Finnegan, was a woman, whom she didn’t quite recognise. She felt familiar though. Both of them were speechless, waiting for the next move.

  
  
“Hh… huh?” She croaked, realising her face was entirely dampened, a reasonable pool of tears settled on the desk she was sitting at. It was dark outside by now - and the man before her was wiping away her tears - although, it didn’t feel real. She knew she was back in the lab… But something about it felt off. Finn was ragged and tired, not like before. And Maeve - she wasn’t there. Instead, this weird… woman. She took the tissue from Finn and dried her own tears, the silence in the room piercing through her. Eventually, she looked at the time and date on her laptop, dabbing the table with the tissue to soak up the excess tears. Little came to her.

  
  
“Are you… okay?” The blonde woman broke the stillness, a little unsure of what to say.

  
  
“Hey, Bjorg, what’s the year?” Finn asked, confident, taking a small step back.

  
  
“Um… ‘76?” She looked up at him. The woman next to Finn was resisting a smile. “You’re… Ava, right?”

  
  
“Y-yes, we met today, in the morning.” Ava replied, brushing her hair behind her ear a little. “I’m your lab partner?”

  
  
“Yeah, I remember you now.” Bjorg grumbled and huffed, now set back into the present. The corner of her mouth tugged upwards at the realisation. It felt odd, a little out of place. Ava couldn’t help but smile at the doctor’s shoddy reply, exchanging a wide grin with Finnegan.

  
  
“You um, you just started crying randomly after not replying for a while, so I bought Dr Wellington here-”

  
  
“I’m fine now, Ava.” Bjorg sniffed, rubbing at her eyes to make them feel a little more… proper. Even her voice was sincere - something that wasn’t common around new people. “Thank you, though.” She felt watched, so she looked up at Finnegan. The man looked down at her with a gaze she couldn’t quite decipher. Was he planning something? Working out his next words? No one could tell.

“Bjorg I…” Finn began, kneeling down to her level, taking a deep breath and figuring out the next words. You could see the exact moment when he gave up. “It’s only the start of a new era, take it easy, alright? Talk to me later, when you can. Get some sleep - it’s getting late.” He settled, and gave a smile. The woman in question agreed, a vague sense of embarrassment cloaking her gesture.

  
  
“I’ll stay in a lab a little longer too-” Ava quickly stopped talking when Bjorg’s eyes snapped onto hers. “-if that’s alright.”

  
  
“Yeah. I should rest. I’ll… I’ll talk to you two later.” The woman picked herself up from the chair, her entire body feeling awfully stiff. A little shimmy later and it felt better already - even if her mental state didn’t. As she walked out of the lab, she felt both Ava and Finn watching her leave. The door shut behind her.

  
  
Plunged back into that empty feeling once more. Her mind felt empty. Raw from emotion and drained from it at the same time, her conscious mind cracked it’s knuckles and got to work - it was time to sleep. To rest. Absolutely no one should be continuing to work in the state she was in.

  
  
Walking to the blocks was easy. Whilst the building was still a little dirty here and there, it looked much better, and much brighter. The LEDs that lit up the pathway outside turned on as she walked towards them. Something in the back of her mind was picking at her.

  
  
What was the weird accented voice, spouting bullshit at her? Muffled as if it didn’t want to come to the forefront, but coherent enough for it to want to be recognised? It couldn’t… It couldn’t have been linked to her being dumbfounded as to why Maeve wasn’t in the lab?

  
  
Right?

If that was the reason why she felt like that, there was something to be addressed. Right, take this one step at a time: She hadn’t seen Maeve for seven years now, and had turned things sour between the two of them before she vanished. Her disappearance happened exactly a year - a whole 365 days - before everything got shut down. There was something there, something hidden. To systematically, calculatedly do something as drastic as that, there was no other way to put it. Maeve was gone, and far out of Bjorg’s reach. There’s been nothing in the news, nothing on the internet. Maeve was completely off the radar, wiped from the grid.

  
  
Seven years is more than enough time to forget. Not forgive, but definitely forget.

  
  
Some things so charged, like their relationship, were hard to let go. There will always be lingering memories, lingering events, lingering words left behind.

  
  
It wasn’t surprising to Bjorg that her past had crept back into her mind in such a dramatic way. Afterall, it happened to her often. Being put back into the same environment as before always made things melt together and bubble to the surface. What put Bjorg off guard was the fact that all the abuse that was spouted at her was the only thing that came forward.

  
  
All of that happened at the beginning, just when she joined Division S, and right at the end. Questioning each other’s morals, being rude to each other, general disagreement. Maeve always taking the lead on things that Bjorg wasn’t particularly alright with, and refusing to acknowledge each other’s differences.

  
  
The same thing was happening with Ava, with Bjorg in charge instead. She was the one being distasteful, sometimes outright dismissive. She was the issue now - she was the problem.

  
  
To catch herself out this early was honestly a feat that Bjorg had never done before. It disgusted her so fucking much that she thought this way. Being unnecessarily rude to someone just because she didn’t know anything about them, building walls between herself and other people merely to minimise the risk of getting hurt. Running away through means of drinking, to wait until things blow over and she can come back like nothing had happened. She was always like this, ever since her university days - which was really the only time she allowed herself to get vulnerable with someone, who inevitably was taken away so easily from her, struck with a single sniper bullet through the temple.

On the way up in the elevator, Bjorg found herself with tears tracing her cheeks once more. A quick wipe away and she stopped, focusing on the present. She had to fix herself, to work through her own - in her opinion - sickening ways. It made her gag, to see herself turning into the exact thing she didn’t like, to fall back on old, self-destructive ways. She knew better than that.

  
  
Definitely knew better.

Once the woman arrived onto her floor and scanned into her dorm, her usual routine had started. It was a little earlier than usual, but nothing that would completely throw her off. A shower, brush of her teeth, and a hop into her bed. 

Her mind had to rest, and so did her body, the darkness feeling comforting this time around, nullifying the tremors of her hands and the itching demand to feel that burning in the back of her throat again.


	5. Smoulder

The following morning, another routine had begun. A cup of coffee, mixed with an eyeballed amount of sugar and a splash of milk. Whilst it cooled down, have a shower. Drink the coffee, put any leftovers down the drain or stick them in the fridge if there’s too much. The eyebags under her eyes felt like they slowly cleared up, no significant difference being visible. But at least her eyes didn’t want to close anymore.

Despite the slight distaste for routines, it was something that was definitely needed. Without routines the days would blend together and time would slowly lose meaning. More control would be slipping away from under her grasp than she was comfortable with.

First order of operation: she signed up for the training. And missing the first day would certainly get her into trouble with Finn. Listening to people getting sternly reprimanded by him was enough to stop others from repeating their mistakes. Changing into her workout clothes - just some sweatpants, trainers and a loose-fitting shirt with a really faded print on it - it was finally time to leave. Wait- and a hoodie, so that she wouldn’t freeze to death. The decision to style herself as a 16 year old boy trying to play some people in basketball was one she wasn’t aware of. Anyway, she was just going to go through an ordinary, military-standard workout routine. No biggie. She’s done it before.

Bjorg left her apartment, and quickly made it to the field. There were a handful of other people there, all much younger than her by several years. She recognised one of them as Mei Vega - a new recruit, from Japan. Mainly focused on hero work rather than anything else. 20-something, young, full of energy. Kind of reminded Bjorg of herself when she was in her twenties, but obviously much less muscular.

Moving on, when the rest of them were told to run some laps, Finn approached Bjorg and pulled her to the side. While the two of them talked, they idly watched everyone else running.

“I see you’re here, Bjorg,” Finn started.

“Yup, I am. I hope you’re not surprised by that?”

“Oh, no, absolutely not. You’re not one to give up on plans that easily,” He smiled, crossing his arms. God, they were so… thin, even if they were hidden away with long sleeves. “What happened yesterday?”

Bjorg pursed her lips and looked away somewhat, her hands landing on her hips. There was no way she was talking about it this early in the morning. One thing she knew though was that there was no point in lying to Finn. He could see through everything.

“Had a flashback.”

“About?”

“The six year gap. Nothing much.”

“Well, it must have been something if it made you cry _that_ much.”

Here he goes again. Every fiber of her being knew that Finn was going to be trying to pry the entire story out of her cold, dead hands. And she hated every little bit of it.

“I always cry when I get flashbacks,” Bjorg looked up at the other man, “They’ve happened before. You’ve seen them happen.”

“Indeed I have. But they’ve never been _this_ bad, have they?” He looked back at her, maintaining eye contact just enough for the message to lay down hard. A thickening silence lay between the two of them, at which the discomfort grew.

“No. No they haven’t,” The woman finally replied with a sigh in her voice.

“You know there’s help available?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ve refurbished the staff support system. I’ve added funding for therapy, for support, for helping people like us get through things like these,” Finn cleared his throat, a fist venturing upward from habit, and to be polite.

“Alright.”

“I’d like you to start using it. You say you’re fine, but everyone around you can see that you’re not. Especially me. I’ve seen your highs and lows,” he paused for a moment to make sure that the younger was still listening, “And you aren’t looking too pretty right now.”

“Mhm.”

“Trust me Bjorg. Take my advice, and you’ll find yourself out of this quickly. Don’t be like Robbie.”

Mmm, Robbie. The woman quietly hissed to herself at the name. She was there, after all. Picking up a thin, malnourished _body_ from a warehouse. Knocking him down to the ground by the backs of his knees, and seizing his sniper from his frail, yet steady hands. The sharp, stabbing words he dealt out to all three of them whilst they were apprehending him. His resistant nature when he was put into the cell. The moment that Finn found out about Robbie’s habits, he did everything within his power to sober him back up. And it worked. She saw him - _flew with him_ \- a couple of days ago.

“I won’t-”

Right there, in that moment, she stopped herself. She knew she wouldn’t last. There was no reason to say she won’t do something when she knows that she will do it. There was no way around this either.

“I’ll try not to be.”

“Promise me, Bjorg. I care about you, a lot,” Finnegan seared his gaze into her. It felt… Well, threatening. The exact thing Finn was aiming for. “You can use it anytime, for as long as you’d like, whenever you want. It’s there for a reason.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Her simple and easy replies obviously weren’t enough to convince Finn, but she was thankful that he had stopped trying to open her up more than she was comfortable with.

“Right, go off and train. We can’t have you on missions if you can’t keep up with the rest. You’re still going to be using a gun, correct?”

“Probably?” One of Bjorg’s eyebrows shot upwards. “I haven’t thought of it.”

“Alright, gun training too. You liked it the last time you did it,” The man smiled softly. Bjorg bit her cheek and nodded, shifting into a smile.

"Yeah, yeah I did.”

The training went by excruciatingly slowly - as every workout did. A minute plank felt like five. A mile jog, which was meant to take her 12 minutes to be up to standard, took her much longer. Then again - she did just start to work out again after years of not doing so. Soon enough, everything was over. All the drills, the running, all the pushups, crunches and the obstacle course were over. Before, Bjorg enjoyed gun training as a sort of cool-down from her more physical activities in the day. Technically she still did, but the piercing noise wasn’t something she liked anymore.

Her shots were still amazingly accurate. With a pistol, with an SMG, and even a rifle, at multiple distances. Even with a moving target, they were accurate enough to warrant a hit. It felt kind of refreshing to hold a gun again, to fire blanks at targets. The entire ordeal was very different with real people. Bjorg knew that it was still going to be a while before she could get deployed onto a mission, obviously. Nothing to get too hyped up about.

Soon, Bjorg returned to her dorm and changed out of her clothing, tossing them onto a chair so that she could wash them later, took a shower, and put on fresh, work-appropriate clothes. Once finished, she headed down to the lab again.

Her little revelation yesterday was a huge wake up call for her. It would probably be good to take small steps - starting with being much less dismissive of Ava and her efforts, even if she was younger and hadn’t obtained her PhD yet. As she entered the lab, it was bathed in the scent of coffee.

“Hello, Dr. Sigrun,” Ava said, plainly. Her voice was… Much less grate-y and bright, but more as if she had only woken up half an hour ago, “I hope you’re better.”

“I am, thank you very much,” She nodded as she sat down at her desk, peeling open her laptop.

“I won’t ask what happened, but know that I’m here if you need someone to speak to.”

“Thanks,” Bjorg paused for a moment, pushing away a witty remark. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She obviously wasn’t going to speak to someone years younger than her about an issue that was only personal to her. To someone like Ava it might just sound like Bjorg would be moping over her lavish life and an ex that she regrets leaving. Which, frankly, wasn’t the image she was trying to show off to others - and it certainly wasn’t true.

The day passed by without the two of them talking too much, maybe a couple of words here and there and little, insignificant ideas being passed between each other. Nothing overly friendly. It seemed like the equivalent of a good start.  
  


* * *

  
Fast forward a week, and Bjorg is back and working on her nanomachines again. A project that she deemed useful before was just about to get a huge rehaul. Starting with the name - nanosquids. With the upgraded machinery that was available at Plat, Bjorg knew she was going to use that to her advantage. Higher resolution printers, more accurate systems, quality of life things.

While at first she was reluctant to use technology that she had made before - primarily looking to make something new - Ava had suggested: ‘Just upgrade it. If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it. Build off of it.’

And well, Bjorg did just that. The hinge mechanisms were going to be refurbished, and she was going to avoid using an ionic core to charge them up again, in search of a more friendly alternative. And this time, she was absolutely not going to put them into her own bloodstream unless absolutely necessary. The reddish-golden glow that emitted from her wounds, watching them get healed in real time was something she didn’t miss.

Maybe it was one explanation as to why Bjorg’s liver was still alive.

By this, Bjorg was also challenging her past too, and she knew this full well. To even go as far as to contradict the words that she said right at the start - that she wouldn't want to be associated with the technology any longer. Reclaiming her spot as the sole creator of these little titanium critters was one of the few satisfactions that Bjorg decided she was willing to endure hardships for.

Needless to say, some ground rules had to be established about this new version. Not only between herself, but also herself and Ava, and the use of these new nanosquids. Things such as Bjorg being the only one that was allowed to use them, and their purpose is solely for deployment during a field mission. No ‘negative’ version was to be made for it, and definitely no self-experimentation again. Of course, Ava pondered upon the compatibility between her own creation and Bjorg’s. Each time, Bjorg stuck somewhere along the lines of Ava's prosthetics having self-healing capabilities anyway.

Somewhere in the middle of the week there was a dip in Bjorg’s behaviour. She closed up again, not saying too much that day, her daily score dropping by a bit during the training. Her aim was sloppy - nowhere near as many hits as she usually gets. Finn obviously noticed this, sending the entire institution an email reminding them of the facilities available. Bjorg knew that it was aimed only at her. To remind her that he’s watching her progress. Seeing her take a step back was plain as day to Finn. Other than that, the rest of the days were fine. The same amount of conversation between Ava and Bjorg, the two of them focused on their projects.

One day in particular, the last day of January, was eventful. Hermes had finally got a music function installed. Only took Wally two weeks and a half to do it.

“Hey Hermes, what music streaming services do you use?” Ava asked, a wide, joyous grin on her face. Bjorg sat in her chair, one leg over the other, watching the other figure out the AI for herself.

“I can use the radio, Spotify, and Flobex.” The AI replied.

“Flobex?” Bjorg questioned, looking to Ava for some kind of answer.

“Oh, you won’t know it. It’s something like Spotify, but for newer genres,” The younger explained, “It started off as ‘Flowing Beats’ but the name was a bit too tacky.”

Bjorg muttered something along the lines of ‘sure’, earning a slight giggle from Ava. There might have already been a slight generation gap between the two of them, even if it wasn’t evident. That, or Bjorg clearly hasn’t been keeping up with the internet recently.

“Alright Hermes,” Ava couldn’t stop grinning. “Play All Star by Smash Mouth.” Her instant reaction was to look at Bjorg and watch what she was going to do. When the song started playing, Bjorg defeatedly put her head in her hands, holding herself for a minute as the song played. Completely unable to stop herself from smiling like an idiot, she whipped her head up and swept her hair back, shaking her head at Ava. Waves of disappointment and looks of grinning disapproval fired at Ava throughout the entire song.

Once it ended, you could physically feel Ava’s happiness turn electric. It practically plagued the room.

“If you’re going to discharge again, don’t do it in here.” Bjorg reminded her, her guard going right back up again. Right away, the electricity dissipated into nothingness. “How do you-” The woman paused, in search of a better choice of words. “What are the limits of your Virtue?”

“No idea,” Ava shrugged, “It just kind of builds up when it's like, a high-emotion environment? I’ve never really learnt to control it that much because it didn’t show up as often.”

“Would you like to learn to control it better?”

“It wouldn’t matter to me. I don’t use it for hero things.”

“It would save a lot more glassware though.”

“Yeah well, I’m not really looking to expand on it. Honestly I’d love to get rid of it. It just kind of gets in the way sometimes.” To that, Bjorg let out a drawn out hum. Not one that particularly conveyed anything, but something more akin to an ‘alright’.

“What does it not get in the way of?” Bjorg piped up after a longer period of silence.

“Charging my phone. My laptop - among other things. This reminds me - I had to punch a kid at one point and the electricity really proved my statement that one time,” She explained, Bjorg looking at her with her brows pressed together.

“That honestly further proves that you might want to learn to control it better.”

“Yeah, well - drop it. Your efforts are not going anywhere,” Ava teased, shooting a wink in Bjorg’s direction. The victim simply grumbled to herself and went back to her work, Ava donning a victorious grin - her cheeks unknowingly tinged with pink.  
  


* * *

  
Some time passed since their relatively minor interaction. Their days were spent further working on their projects, Bjorg’s healing army having been made into the first prototype and tested on synthetic, life-imitation skin. And yeah, it worked! Everything worked as she had planned. Comparing it against her first runs when she had first invented them, their response time was much faster and their meshing capabilities were far more effective. They were less prone to clotting together, with the body simulation being much more accepting of the foreign entities.

On the other hand, Ava’s project came to a near standstill. She had a plan for how the arm would be constructed and stayed true to human anatomy and mechanics. It bothered her how there would have to be some workarounds that she didn’t entirely plan for. Seeking answers, she turned to Bjorg for some help.

Right now, they were within the first week of February. The annual hero gala was coming up, too. Bjorg _had_ to have something to showcase for it. She got so blindsided that she genuinely forgot she was supposed to be helping the person in her lab. Fixated on her work, on the training each morning, and resisting the urge to fall back onto her habits for some sense of comfort were the only things keeping her together. She did still slip here and there, but nothing to such a large degree that it would take a detrimental toll on her.

“You don’t know what to do next?” Bjorg repeated the other’s statement, forming it into a question instead. It bought her some time to think of what to answer with.

The younger blonde woman nodded, shyness plaguing her. The elder stood up and walked over to her station, skimming over what the other had on the holopads, scrolling through information. The holopads themselves were just a light projection and nothing that you could touch physically. Their only physical components were the size of a juice box, but much flatter. It split into two, diagonally, to provide the image.

The way Bjorg worked through the information, the way her hands treated the hollow screen as if it was physical. You could see her mind working, figuring out solutions in real time and taking mistakes or issues into account. Ava was starstruck. Each movement being so calculated, it made her feel like a kid failing their mental maths. Even before she had arrived at Plat, there was so much admiration held within Ava for someone exactly like Bjorg.

It was who she wanted to be, even if everything about her was the exact opposite.

“Ava?” Bjorg looked at her, her holopad now facing her.

“Oh, uh, yeah?” She stammered.

“You’re missing a couple of variables,” Bjorg pointed out, “Here and here.”

Looking at her work, Bjorg was right. There were some things missing from her equations. How stupid of her to miss out something so small like that?

“I must say though, your work is much more advanced than what I did.”

“You worked on prosthetics?”

“Briefly,” Bjorg cracked a small smile, crossing her arms, “I looked at them when I found out about the Caithyan war. I looked for ways to make them more integrated into the body, but I eventually dropped out of it.”

“Why?”

“It felt like a stagnant field to me back then, and was considerably out of my reach. There was physics involved, and chemistry that I didn’t have experience with.”

“We are all victims of physics in one way or another,” Ava chuckled to herself, fighting away a grin.

“Yeah, we are,” Smiling, Bjorg returned to her station. That reminded her - February. Valentine's day was coming up.

Whatever amalgamation of feelings that Bjorg had brewing for Ava felt insignificant enough that she argued against buying anything for the other. The day before, Bjorg ventured out into the city and to the shops, using one of the cars that PlatFed allowed to loan.

The city was already rich with couples wandering around and searching for cute things to do, buy, or eat. The other half of the people there were frantically going from shop to shop, their hands full with gifts. Others were simply making their way through the streets, maybe basking in the atmosphere or simply just zipping through. The city itself was donned in colours of red, pink, and bright, twinkling lights that lit the streets after the sun had set. Bjorg’s own goal was to look for some more expensive wine that she could treat herself to.

Fuck man, she knew she shouldn’t. But it was Valentine’s day, so she could treat herself right? It was only a day, and if the wine was expensive, she could totally say that she might have bought it for someone else, maybe even playing it off that she shared it with someone else.

Her hands ventured into her coat pockets, fiddling with her keys, her face sunken into the thick scarf that she had wrapped around her neck. With a little bit more walking, she arrived at the store she had been a semi-regular visitor for before. It had a bit of a ‘red carpet’ thing going on, and the front was graced with frameless glass doors and windows. The only obstruction of the glass was a huge, elegant sign.

“Welcome to Divine Wine!” A man in a dapper tuxedo came up to Bjorg, holding an empty wine glass in his hand, “How can I help you today?”

“A-ah, I’m just browsing. I’ve had my eye on a particular wine for a while already,” Bjorg admitted, adjusting her scarf so that her face was more visible.

“Which one? I can give you a taster before you purchase,” The man grinned, directing Bjorg over to a wall of shelves, where there were dozens bottles of wine on display.

“I think it’s the Uncontrolled Gold by the Dragonmoon Winery?” She scanned the shelves, noticing the label that she was looking for.

“Oh, quite a fine choice. Would you like to taste it?”

“Sure,” Bjorg nodded to the man, who went over to the back to presumably get a sample. When he came back, he held the wine glass, half-filled with blood red liquid, which then got taken over by Bjorg. She did her normal ‘I’m interested in this wine’ facade. She smelled it, swirled it and tasted it.

The moment the warmth of the liquid was felt against her tongue, the sweetness fading into a more earthy taste, she was hooked. It tasted otherworldly. Excellently crisp, a bit of a bite that was pleasant. Nothing else had given her this much of an enjoyable experience, ever, in her life. Well, maybe a couple of things have, but that’s besides the point. Silently, she considered buying it. Yes, it was expensive, and it was a sensational experience. Still, was it worth another mass email from Finn? Was it worth snapping at Ava because she did something wrong, taking them both back to square one with what they had worked on?

Was it worth the turmoil that she was going to create? Would the high that she would ride while this wine clutched her mind worthwhile? Was what she was about to buy worth the money for something so temporary?

Each and every answer was no. Bjorg bit her cheek, gently passing the wine glass back to the shop assistant.

“Sorry, I think I’ll spend some more time thinking about it.”

“That’s perfectly fine! Are there any other wines you would like to try out today?” The man took the glass into his hands and delicately held it, eagerly waiting for an answer.

“I’m… No, I don’t think so. Thank you.” She popped a smile in the direction of the man and headed for the exit, pulling her scarf up over her face once more.

A personal victory. She’d never done this before - refused wine. Even if she was offered the worst wine in the world she would have drank it, with the sole purpose of feeling that buzz once more. As a bonus, it was money saved. Even if her mouth was dry and her mind was wanting, her hands trembling, and the cold taking on a much larger effect at times, she saved herself too.

With nothing on her mind apart from heading back to the labs already, she’d remembered she had a lab partner.

It wouldn’t be declaring feelings if it was just a gift out of courtesy, right? Just a little something in case she hadn’t received anything else. That someone was there to give her a little morale boost. Bjorg’s legs swerved and led her directly into a chocolate specialty store. Without being bombarded by a shop assistant asking her unnecessary, semi-intrusive questions, she had picked out a small, rectangular box with a selection of chocolates inside. The brand was good enough (in her opinion) and the prices were, well, undoubtedly far cheaper than some expensive wine.

If you asked 26 year old Bjorg as to what she loved doing with her money the most, she’d probably reply with ‘buying gifts for others’. Fast forward ten years later and the answer would probably still sound similar, without her exposing her tendencies. Some things just never faded, never changed, even if the environment did.

Chocolates, paid for, and put into her bag. The scientist found herself diverting away from the wine shop in favour of returning to the car and going right back to the lab. It was getting late, her having spent too much time trying to find stores to go to, ruminating about possible events - not to mention the line that had formed in the chocolate store. Her hand searched for the keys in her pocket, fishing them out with ease and putting them into the ignition. A turn, and the electric engine pinged awake, the backlit meters coming alive. Pulling out of the parking spot, she was well on her way back to Platinum. Could she spare some time for a little cruise?

Of course she could. Alarmingly late, she swerved to the exit that took her to the port, messily parking her car next to a lot near the shore. She felt it was time to face another demon within her, it being about a month since anything last resurfaced.

Mmm, yup, she’s seen this scenario before. It happened before already. Parking the company car - no, a personal car - in the lot, stripping the body free of shoes and socks to feel the rocks and sand dust their worries away. Their chests swelling with laughter as they spoke about trivial things that, at the time, seemed so huge.

Remnants of that conversation stuck with the Norwegian. How they talked about their aspirations - Bjorg’s being going to Platinum, and Irene’s were how she wanted to become an ethical hacker. The fragments of that conversation echoed in her mind, bringing forth a warm feeling that felt like being enveloped in a hug. It was summer. The space between university years. It was so close, and still so far away. A gentle breeze swept those recollections to the side, summoning the woman back to the present.

Bjorg sat herself in the chilled sand, the idle sound of calm waters lapping at the shore. Revisiting these little tidbits here and there - she wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. But it was the closest she got to reawakening the memories she wanted to bring back. She wanted to tell Irene her progress, with Platinum, and her own personal progress. No matter how much you believe something though, every being in her conscience told her that there was no way to contact the dead. She couldn’t just undo time and stop her from getting sniped. What happened, did, and was in the past now.

Still in the sand, Bjorg decided to spend a little more time there, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as her mind continued to remember. After a while, it felt like enough. Picking her body up from the sand, the woman dusted her feet off and put her socks and shoes back on, heading to the car. A quick glance at the time, and she found it was just past midnight. It was going to take roughly 20 minutes for Bjorg to get back to Platinum from where she was. And, if she knew Ava’s routine enough, there was no chance of the two of them bumping into each other when she came back.

And Bjorg was correct. Ava was nowhere to be seen in the labs, or even near them. The lights were also turned off, Ava’s project still out on the table. It had progressed to the point where she had been able to accurately reconstruct an entire arm, minus the shoulder, using synthetic fibres and bone. If Bjorg had to be honest, she was proud of the work Ava was doing. She reached for her bag and fetched out the box of chocolates, and placed them next to the arm, unaware that she was smiling to herself.

As if she wasn’t even there, Bjorg slipped out of the lab and into her apartment, opting to fall asleep sooner rather than later.  
  


* * *

  
The following morning, where Bjorg had already acquired a cup of coffee and a snack, she journeyed into the lab. Ava was there already, working on ironing out the details in her fake arm. What was missing though was the signature ‘Morning, Dr. Sigrun’ that Ava oh-so loved to say every day. Bit odd, but alright.

As soon as the clueless scientist turned her head around to set her things down onto the desk, she found a long, rectangular box with a window. Inside, were personalised truffle squares, that read ‘poggers’, adorned with smiley faces, stars and a heart in the middle. She picked it up and took a closer look, suppressing her rising chuckle.

“Dammit Ava,” Were the only words that left Bjorg’s mouth as she turned around to look at her lab partner. To much of her surprise, Ava was watching Bjorg this entire time, her entire face rapidly turning red when the two of them made eye contact.

“It’s just out of courtesy!” Ava declared, turning away to focus her eyes on something else.

“Same as mine, actually.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Bjorg popped the box open and picked out an un-iced square, popping it into her mouth. The chocolate melted effortlessly, the perfect balance of dark and white chocolate combining to form a silent symphony. Laced with an intrusive thought, telling her that the gestures were borderline predatory and that everything she was going to do, or say, was going to impact her negatively. Something to add to the ever-present knowledge that control was making a getaway. A simple roll of her eyes sent it away.

“Well, then. Happy Single’s day?” Ava joked.

“Yup. Happy Single’s day.”

To disrupt their innocent little moment, an email popped through to Bjorg’s notification system. A request from Albrecht to start designing and working on weapons, as field deployment wasn’t too far off. Oh, a deadline was given too! 20th May. Possibly a month before a big mission? Bjorg had hunches for things sometimes, and they usually didn’t stray far.

“Ah, great,” The woman grumbled with little satisfaction, opening up a new file on her holopad.


	6. Capacities

More than often, if you entered Bjorg and Ava’s lab, you were bound to hear quiet music in the background, the sporadic sparking of electricity coming from one side, and a constant flurry of keyboard taps that stopped and started at random intervals. Occasionally there was the bubbling of liquids within flasks or the low drone of the nanosquid tank as they were receiving updates. Words were only said when there was a pressing matter on hand, or one of the ladies felt particularly down that day. That is, of course, if you don’t count the younger’s muttery singing, that didn’t get easier to ignore the more time went on, usually being shut down by the elder.

Tonight, the usual quiet racket was interrupted. Sets of ears perked up at the noise, and it took Bjorg no less than a second to look over at her notifications bar and skim over a message addressed from Sam. Ava also happened to glance over at the source of the sound, turning to look at her supervisor with a quizzical glance.

  
  
“What’s happening now?” Ava mused, turning back to affix something to her work.

  
  
“You’ll see.”

  
  
The woman rose from her desk, her lab coat shrugged off and thrown onto a chair behind her as she forcefully swiped the air, the door whooshing open. With quick, long steps, she soon found herself over at the workshops, knocking onto the door labelled ‘Textiles’.

“ _ Uno momento! _ ” A broken accent echoed from the inside, a brief moment of silence, followed by a significantly louder clatter that reverberated through the spaces between the metal panels. It was punctuated with a rich, nervous laugh.

  
  
Not even a minute later, the door was flung open. The moment that Bjorg laid eyes on what was inside, there was a certain warmth that spawned within her, almost like a little flame in her heart. The workshop itself was filled with warm colours - a stark contrast than what the labs were - and the desks were wooden. The floor had a glint to it, caused by the dangerous amount of needles, pins and nails that were broken and haphazardly thrown onto the floor. Atop what Bjorg assumed to be Sam’s desk, there was a high-end sewing machine, scraps of fabric strewn out that covered almost every square inch of surface, a pin cushion in the shape of an orange, and last but not least - a rack of almost every single colour of thread that Bjorg could imagine. All set out by number, she presumed, with a couple of missing here and there. The opposite side of the room was almost a mirror image, but with vastly different equipment - and definitely much tidier.

  
  
Admiring the room wasn’t the reason why Bjorg had come in over to the workshops today, though. In the middle of the room, was a dressmaker, clad in Bjorg’s newest hero suit.

  
  
It was sleek and simple. From what she could see, it consisted of the statement piece - the coat. Even by just looking at it you could tell it was some kind of material that might as well be fireproof. Underneath it were black trousers and shirt, with panels of what appeared to be carbon fibre. 

  
  
“So then, Isbjorn’s suit is ready for deployment,” Sam gestured to the torso, inviting Bjorg in for a closer look. And she did walk in, walking around like a cat to avoid getting anything stuck into the bottoms of her shoes.

“Not to concern you, but how do you walk about without needles in your shoes?”

  
  
“Oh,” Sam looked down as if he’d never noticed the tiny lances scattered across the floor, “To be real with you? No idea.”

  
  
“Great,” Bjorg cracked a smile that only grew larger when she turned around to the back of the piece. The coat itself went down to the middle of her calves, and was crisp white - and layered. The style of it was a labcoat, but obviously suited for more combative purposes. Now, for the showstopper. Each layer that was intricately sewn on was perfectly aligned with another to form the roaring, vectorised face of a bear. If Bjorg needed a bit of a serotonin boost, this had definitely provided it.

  
  
“Right, so, you’ve got a secret material used for the coat, the panels are made of carbon fibre and reinforced with something that Wally refuses to tell me about, and the body pieces themselves are just cotton interwoven with Kevlar,” Sam summarised, also happening to admire his work. What mattered to him most though was customer satisfaction. “You alright there?”

  
  
“Yeah,” Bjorg stared at every single detail, admiring how clean the stitchwork was, “I just didn’t know something like this was possible?”

“Well, Wally  _ did  _ hire me for things like these, after all. Not to mention that I just love doing it.” 

  
  
“I… Can I take it?”

  
  
“Yeah! It’s yours! In the future, if it needs any repairs of any kind, you can just slide me a message and I’ll pick it up when I’m free.” 

  
  
“Got it,” Bjorg couldn’t resist smiling when she started stripping the torso free of it’s fabric shackles. Holding such a silky material in her hands made her feel like there was a film of sweat over her palms. Even then, her happiness here was dulled down by the age old question of: ‘Does this truly make me happy?’. The girl physically shook her head to shake off the thought, focusing on the task at hand. Once she got all the parts of her suit, she thanked Sam, who waved her out of the workshop.

With a gentle spring in her step that was never there before, Bjorg rushed over to a more private place to change into the garment. As she was doing that it felt a bit odd, actually. Missions would only start in June, and she was receiving the same adrenaline rush that was present with each time she was about to go out into the battlefield.

  
  
It didn’t force anything up per se, but it was like Bjorg was going to be swept off her feet due to the flood of chemicals. Swept off her feet, just like when the terrain she stepped on had violently changed from someone manipulating the earth beneath her. Mmm, now was definitely not the time.

  
  
Once outfitted in the suit, it was pressed tight against her skin, but not to the point it was uncomfortable. The panels were stiff, and yet didn’t obstruct her movement. The coat itself looked heavy, but was light as a feather when worn. All in all, it fulfilled its purpose - to make Bjorg feel protected, and above all, confident.

A couple of quick strides over to the labs and she entered almost triumphantly, Ava's natural reaction being to turn to the door.

"So what did you- oh my god, is that the suit?" 

  
  
“Mmmhmm!” Bjorg spread her arms out wide, her weight resting on one of her legs, “This is it!” Her face lit up.

“It looks so different than the previous one! You look less like an astronaut and, well, more like a hero now,” Ava admitted, rising from her chair to take a closer look, Bjorg stepping into the lab further. The glimmer in the younger’s eyes as Bjorg did a fancy, albeit slightly cringy twirl said everything. Everything from the bear motif on the cape, to the sharp edges of the protective panels was perfect. If Bjorg had come to save her if she was in grave danger, she would probably remember her. “It looks amazing! Did you come up with it?”

  
  
“No actually, it was all Samuel, from the workshops.”

“But he knows nothing about you?”

  
  
“Apparently he does. And to be fair, I’m not surprised. He seems close with Wally and Robbie, considering how much time he’s been here,” Bjorg fiddled with the sleeves of her cape, spotting Ava’s enamoured gaze trained on it, the woman deciding to break the silence between them. “Would you like to wear it?”

  
  
“Oh shit, can I?” The other almost gasped.

  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Soon, the coat was off of Bjorg’s shoulders and on Ava’s. It was quite obvious that it was tailored to Bjorg - the shoulders were wider by about an inch or so each side, the length of the sleeves was cut a bit long. Seeing Ava’s buzzing reaction made her feel like she was treating some kid to a lollipop, with piles of debris in the distance, the air still tainted with the telltale smell of chemicals and gunpowder. “I guess you look like me now.”

  
  
“Hell yeah!” Ava smiled, little wisps of lightning snapping at her hands, starting to mock punch the air, “Fuck you, Hellfire!  _ Pow pow pow! _ ” The room filled with laughter from the two of them, Bjorg’s laugh cut short. “Why the bear, by the way?” Ava swirled around, basking in the feeling of having something follow her movements so smoothly. 

  
  
For a couple of moments, Bjorg didn’t answer.   


“I guess it's in my name.  _ Polar Bear _ ,” Bjorg shrugged, “My parents used to call me that as a child.”

  
  
“Wow, seriously? Is that why you chose that to be your callsign?”

  
  
“Not particularly. I just thought… Well, I like polar bears. I find them cute,” The woman looked at the other and held out her hand, “Right, give it back, I’ve got to put it away now.”

“Will you put it in the glass case?” Ava took off the coat, handing it over whilst looking over at a compartment in the wall that was well, closed by glass. Inside, was a rail with two hangers, and two wire mesh bodies, lacking heads. A flash of thought sprung to Bjorg’s face.

  
  
“Maybe. Not now though. I’ll be back in a second.” Bjorg draped the coat over her shoulder, and left the lab much less enthusiastically. She could physically feel Ava’s stare across her entire being as she left, but decided to ignore it. 

* * *

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours, until eventually Bjorg returned to the lab, languid movements interwoven with confidence. She was out of her hero suit for a long time now, considering how her shirt was untucked from her jeans, or the sloppy cuffing at the bottom of them. In general, she looked a little roughed up.

“How are you?” Ava asked, her tone a bit mumbly, her hands busy working on an intricate part of her arm.

“I’m good.”

“You’ve been gone for some time, where did you go?” The girl questioned, then hissed at herself as she got bitten by her own electricity. 

“Oh, just here and there.” 

“You wanna see my progress?” Ava pushed herself away from the floor, causing her chair to take her away from her project, revealing it.

“Hm. Looks cool.” 

  
  
“Now, watch this.” Ava put on a headpiece, and the arm instantly calibrated itself to where the current position of her right arm was. Opening and closing her hand, the arm imitated every movement with a significant bout of lag. “I still need to work on adjusting the delay, but other than that, it’s getting there.” 

“Nice,” Bjorg half-nodded and turned to her work, “How long do you think it will take you?” 

“Maybe a month or two. Where are we, like, March, right?” 

“Mmm.”

  
  
“So I should be done by the end of April. Have you thought of what to do for the weapons request from Albrecht?”

  
  
“Nope.” 

After their short, one sided conversation, silence fell between the two of them once more. A whirring noise came from the nanosquid tank that Bjorg had decided to temporarily install next to her desk. The liquid in which the nanosquids were suspended was clear, but because of the titanium critters, it had a mesmerising silver shimmer effect. It looked much like one of those wines with edible glitter in them. A little gasp severed the silence between them.

“I’ve got it! You should make something deadlier than a gun!” 

“What?” Bjorg turned in her chair, her brows furrowed.

“Yeah, well, you’re going to be smashing through the baddies, aren’t you?” Ava shrugged, deciding to rest her arms on the cold surface of the island in the middle of the lab. 

“Yeah but not killing them.” 

“Why not? I thought that was like, the whole point of being a hero.”

“I don’t like killing people. I prefer teaching them a lesson more than anything else.”

“Aw, so you’re like The Alchemist?”

“No,” Bjorg began, her voice breathless, as if she was about to sigh, “He killed before. I’ve never killed, at all,” Her voice began to grow sharp, “What is a hero that kills the villains? A murderer, probably.” 

Ava was about to say something, but stopped in stunned silence.

“I think we have very different visions of what a ‘hero’ is, Ava,” Bjorg added, seeing that the other couldn’t find a reply.

The girl simply nodded and drooped her head down, finally deciding to address the elephant in the room.

“You’re being a bit nasty, you know that?” The blonde woman piped up, looking at Bjorg to see if she got a reaction out of her. Nothing.

“A bit nasty? I just got into an argument earlier, that’s all. Looks like it stuck around.” Bjorg ruffled her hair, Ava clearly being irked by the vague response. 

“I don’t think you have. You’ve been acting weird since you’ve got here, not to mention that you’ve been gone for hours,” Ava paused, mentally weighing out her options, “So tell me, what happened?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bjorg turned in her chair to look toward the island, one leg over the other, her eyes trained on the younger lab partner. The sheer intensity of the eye contact made Ava want to disappear into thin air.

“Yes, I would like to know. I like you, Bjorg, as a friend, And I think I’ve known you long enough to know what your personality is like. And you are acting fucking weird.”

“We’ve only known about each other’s existence for three months. That’s nothing.”

  
  
“It’s something. I thought my own supervisor would actually enjoy doing their job. Again, you’re being fucking weird.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Bjorg lifted her head in disapproval. “You’re making quite the assumptions, aren’t you?” 

“If you say I don’t know anything about you, then how about we get to know each other?” Ava straightened herself up, her hands landing in her pockets, fiddling with a piece of lint inside. Unknowingly, she held her breath while waiting for an answer.

“No.” 

“Wh-” Ava froze, seeing Bjorg getting up from her chair.

“You, Miss Robinson, will know nothing about me apart from what the media covers. And I intend to keep it that way.” The older woman inched closer, slow, calculated steps that became heavier and heavier.

“Well, why?” 

“You don’t need to know.” Bjorg eventually stood tall before Ava, looking down on her. Ava fixed her posture as an attempt to stand on the same level as her, but her eyes and form cowered under the powerful pressure that was exerted. “Now get out. This lab isn’t the place to talk about the morality of heroes and getting into my personal life,” She hissed.

With that, Ava’s face turned sour. Whatever was being said got blocked out, her attention fully focused on the faint, tart scent that was emanating from Bjorg. That, to her, explained everything. Not carrying on the conversation was probably the best idea here, so she followed the orders. Shrunken, maybe even a bit fearful, Ava grabbed a couple of papers from her desk and left, a watchful gaze being burnt into the back of her head.

The request, to Ava, was harsh. Like coarse sandpaper tearing through metal. Whatever was happening with Bjorg felt like she had to walk on eggshells because of it. One misstep and she could end up without a supervisor, or even out of Platinum as a whole. Her mind swirled with countless options and scenarios and events, and her legs took her to corridors she didn’t even know existed, but got halted by a concerned looking, skinny, blonde man.   
  
“Ava? What are you doing out here?” Finn asked, his phone in his hand with a messaging app open.

“Oh, just taking a breather,” She fixed her papers up, tapping them against her leg to align them into a stack, “Maybe a walk, or something like that.”

Finn took a moment to take a good look at Ava. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  
  
“Yup! Everything’s fine,” The girl beamed back.

  
  
“Do… you wanna go to the greenhouse with me then? I’m on break too,” The man vaguely gestured into a corridor.

  
  
“Sure, I could use some company.”

Their walk was brief, with no exchanges. As the glass door opened from general motion sensors, there was a flood of fresh, fragrant, floral scents. At the entrance, there was a stepping stone pathway that led to a large tree, with a treehouse intertwined in the branches, a ladder hanging down from a hole in the balcony. The path itself was bordered by tall grass, paired with exotic flowers that would have no chance of surviving outside of the glass dome. In the background, you could hear the thrum of flowing water. 

  
  
“So then. I just.. I like hanging out here. Feel free to have a look around, and judging by your reaction, you’ve never been here,” Finn smiled, following the path and climbing up the ladder to get into the treehouse. “If you want to talk I’ll be up here!” He called from the balcony.

  
  
Finn had guessed correctly: Ava had never ventured anywhere outside of the lab. She had no idea what the cafeteria looked like, what the training halls looked like, not to even mention the scattered offices that exist in the core of the building. The workshops only lived within her mind, and the living quarters, dorms and apartments seemingly didn’t exist to her.

  
  
Deciding to take a look around and take her mind off of things, Ava strayed from the pathway. The grass, perfectly cut and kept, crunched and swished under her feet. Big leaves swayed as if they invited her over, being greeted with a delightful poke and soft giggle. Blades of grass that were taller than her felt like walking through a beaded curtain, ferns tickled at her legs as she brushed past them. Throughout all this, she was careful not to damage the plants themselves or any little critters that had made a home in the thicket. A yelp came from her when a spider had descended down by her hand, the girl turning right around and legging it out of that area. She headed right back down the pathway and beelined for the treehouse.

The girl put the papers between her mouth, clamping down on them like her life had depended on it, and made her way up the ladder. Considering it was a rope ladder, it was no surprise to her that it was unstable - and yet she powered on, upward.

  
  
Once she had reached the top, she pulled herself up and heard Finn shuffle around. Upon looking up, the door to the treehouse was wide open, with Finn looking through it to see if she made it up alright.

  
  
“Heard you out there. A spider got ya?” He teased, a smile on his face. Ava just laughed and nodded, going to grab a pillow to sit down on the floor. Through the cracks between the boards, you could see the supports and the ground below. If she had to guess, they were about 4 metres up from the ground. 

  
  
Finn set down his notepad and holopad by his side, and stuck his pencil atop his ear.

  
  
“So how’s work?” The man began, keeping it simple for now.

  
  
“It’s alright. Getting through with my project and meeting my deadlines. Not too much going on so far,” Ava crossed her legs, setting her own papers to her side and weighing them down with her phone.

  
  
“Good good! I’m glad, so I guess you’re settling in fine then?”

  
  
“Yeah.”

  
  
“Bjorg not giving you trouble?” 

  
  
Ava’s gaze dropped to the floor, and her hand ventured to scratch the back of her head, “No, not really.” A curious look fell upon her.

“Are you sure?” The man pried, “I’ve known her for quite a long time and she can be a little… overwhelming at times.”

  
  
“Mmm,” The girl hummed, leaning on her hand and blew a part of her bangs out of her face, “She’s alright I guess. Just kinda wish she was a little more… Open?”

  
  
“Why is that?” Finn leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

  
  
“Because she’s just so fucking… distant? She’s my supervisor, for god’s sake, and we are literally in the same lab, constantly!” She grumbled, throwing her hands up into the air, continuing, “If she isnt telling me to shut up because my humming is getting a little too loud, she's warning me about dumping my electricity, or nitpicking at every single little thing!”

  
  
Finn thought for a minute. Reflecting on how she was those 6 odd years ago and comparing it to now, Bjorg sounds like someone both of them knew before. Maeve. For someone like him to be able to make the comparison, considering how little he had interacted with the former Platinum member, it was becoming obvious that Bjorg was, well, repeating the same mistakes. The nitpicking, the harshness, the general demeanour. The man hummed in thought and slowly nodded.

  
  
“Now, you wanna hear why she might be like this?” He suggested, Ava giving a shrug and a nod. “Bjorg had a lab partner some years ago, right? Apart from all the mini adventures and hangouts and skirmishes they had, they happened to have a good… work relationship. If at first it seemed like they would kill each other over some broken test tube, it eventually dissipated into something civil and, well, friendlier.” 

Ava’s eyebrow perked up. It sounded exactly like the situation they were in right now, there was no glossing over that fact.

  
  
“So I’d say give her some time. She’s a great scientist at heart and might do a bit of back and forth, but it’s just her testing the waters. Bjorg does it a lot, even in missions,” Finn chuckled, playing with the ring on his finger.

“I’ve given her enough time though. It’s been three months since we’ve been introduced, and literally on my first day she had some kind of crippling flashback, refusing to give details to me, or even you.”

  
  
“Say, if you had a flashback about something in your past, you might not entirely want to tell people about it. Especially if it was during a time where you didn’t have contact with anyone, right?” Finn knew very well what he was doing by putting Ava into Bjorg’s shoes.

  
  
“Well, yeah…” 

  
  
“So, see? There could be a slew of reasons why Bjorg might not have said anything to us,” Finnegan finally shrugged, hoping that he made the girl in front of him feel at least a little better about her lab partner, without disclosing too many details. “If she wants to talk about it, she will. If not, then she’ll treat it like it didn’t happen. It’s just how she is.” 

  
  
After sitting in a moment of silence, Ava slapped her knee and got up, picking her phone and papers up as well. 

  
  
“I should get going. Maybe apologise.” 

  
  
“Yeah. It might be for the best.” Finn smiled at her, “I’ll be here for a little longer if you’d like to come back. If not, then I’ll be hanging out in my office,” He paused, “You know where my office is, right?”

  
  
Red rose to the woman’s cheeks, the grip on her papers a little tighter.

  
  
“No…” She muttered.

  
  
“That’s alright. If you go to the main entrance and go up the stairs, it will be in that corridor. The door has my name on it.” He waved her off as the young scientist skittered away back to the lab.

  
  
Needless to say, it was beginning to get late. Oranges and pinks crept in through the windows, bathing every nook and cranny in warm light. Clouds painted a mesmerising picture, bordering on being a fluid simulation. 

  
  
Before Ava opened the door, she held her breath and knocked three times, and then simply invited herself in. It was her lab as well, after all. Upon entering, she was greeted with Bjorg, half awake, head hanging over her laptop.

  
  
“I thought I told you to stay out.” The older woman complained, not even taking a moment to look at who had come in. Ava recoiled at the stabbing remark, but proceeded nonetheless.

  
  
“And I thought I should apologise,” She stated, and seeing that Bjorg had shown no energy to reply, she continued, “I kind of snapped there.” 

  
  
Silence.

  
  
“Sorry that I did that, but I do genuinely worry for you. And you are older and have more life experience than me so I’m sorry that I made assumptions-”

  
  
“Stop,” Bjorg lifted her head, leaning back in her chair, sunken eyes meeting the younger’s alert ones, “It’s not your fault. I fucked up, so I should be the one apologising.” 

  
  
“But-”

  
  
“Don’t-” Bjorg lifted her hand rapidly, and it came down just as fast. “Let’s just leave it at that,” she rubbed her eyes, turning to face her laptop once more.

  
  
“Fine.”

“Do you have anything else to say?” Bjorg questioned, tapping away.

  
  
“Um… Yeah,” The girl swallowed, hesitant if she should pitch her idea, “Because you don't want to… Um, murder people, maybe stun them? With electric punches or kicks. The way you fought before Platinum kinda died resembled a lot of what someone like Deidre Dragon would do when he couldn’t breathe fire.”

  
  
“Really?” Bjorg looked up at her, flexing the back of her neck, happening to muster some energy to continue the conversation.

  
  
“Y-yeah!”

  
  
“I’ll look into it. Not right now though.” 

  
  
And so, the rest of that day went by as it usually would, peppered with tired eyes, tension, and restlessness. The two women dismissed each other, Bjorg venturing to her apartment, and Ava out into her small house in the city. Coffee drifted in and out of the lab day after day, spiced with a snarky remark here, and a kind apology the next. Hissing and buzzing subsided, replaced by soundless movement. Delay was nonexistent, and deadlines were met. 

  
  
By the end of April, both the women had finished and found new projects that would soak up their time. The prosthetic arm was complete, only begging to be duplicated, and the nanosquids were in their final stage of refinement, ready for action. With no time to spare, the two women had dived deep into their new idea: Bjorg’s electric weaponry. It started off as just ideas lifted off of a game that had been released decades ago, but eventually were refined into something with more of a bite than a bark. 

  
  
From the ground up, the two had designed a gauntlet of sorts, that is able to act like a taser. The palm would have conductive material, the knuckles would be guarded and reinforced, with spikes that were able to let electricity arc back and forth. The wrist was designed to be supported by flexible metal prongs to absorb at least half of the shock from a punch. Sleek design that melded perfectly with the style of her suit. One nifty idea that Bjorg had thought to implement was a consistent monitoring of her vitals. If anything dropped below what she, or the system, would consider safe, it would deliver a shot of nanosquids to her bloodstream, in hopes of them negating any damage that was sustained. It was more of a precaution than a feature, knowing that if she was stranded alone, having a backup healing system would keep her away from death.

  
  
The same type of system was mimicked and copied onto her boots - with only the sword of the foot being able to produce any significant damage. Spikes that would conduct electric arcs between each other made her footwear look more like punk boots - but Bjorg didn’t mind. If anything, it just reminded her of the time she used to consistently listen to metal.

Two more weeks of tweaks, new ideas and adjustments, and the idea had been finalised. The  _ Aegis _ , as Ava nicknamed it, was ready to be produced - the file was sent over to Wally, outlining any notes or cautions that were to be attended to. Within days, it was brought into reality, and neatly tucked away in a metal box that was placed atop Bjorg’s desk.

That same day as the  _ Aegis _ had arrived, Bjorg hadn’t shown up. She hadn’t announced that she was taking a day off or going out into the city, or even going for a mission. She wasn’t supposed to be going anywhere, as a matter of fact, until July.

  
  
Arriving at the lab with a neat arrangement of yellow and white flowers, Ava was met with nothingness. The way they had left everything last night was the same, and nothing had been moved. The girl kissed her teeth and sharply sucked in air - she was usually the first one at the lab out of the both of them anyway, so giving her lab partner a bit of time seemed to be the more sensible thing to do.

  
  
As the day progressed forward, lingering anxiety took hold of the blonde. Maybe, hopefully, it was nothing, where Bjorg had just forgotten to say she wasn’t coming in. 

  
  
“Hey, Hermes?” Ava began, idly staring at the desk in front of her, picking at some stain. Her heart hammered inside of her ribcage.

  
  
“Yes, Ava?” The AI replied, a sliver of green light coming to life just above the door.

  
  
“Do you know where Dr Sigrun might be?”

  
  
The light flashed as the AI processed the request, “Sorry, but I cannot disclose that information to you at this time.” The light shut off, followed by an exasperated groan and the opening of the door. Ava held onto the doorframe, her knuckles white, looking down the hallway both ways - no one. The sun had set already, but it couldn’t have been too late.

“Fuck,” Ava hissed at herself, biting at her lip, “Hermes, connect me to Dr Wellington, please,” The girl returned into the room, hopping onto the island to sit on it.

  
  
“Connecting to Dr Finnegan Wellington,” The AI replied, the lightstrip breathing blue. The girl’s legs rocked back and forth as she looked around for nothing in particular.

  
  
“Shut up, Robbie,” a whisper came through, followed by shushing and a restrained laugh. “Hello, Bjorg?” Finnegan’s voice was heard through the speakers. It was a little… eager.

  
  
“Ahaha, no, it’s Ava, sorry for calling you so out of the blue, Doctor, but have you seen Bjorg?”

  
  
“No, I haven’t, I haven’t been able to get through to her today at all either. Has she been in the lab?”

  
  
“No… Which is why I’m calling to you about her.” 

  
  
“Oh,” Finn chuckled, and you could hear a hand slap against skin on the other side, with the tumbling of plastic wheels against vinyl flooring and the creaking of a chair, ”Sorry, I should have paid more attention - if you have the time, try checking her apartment. They’re just straight left when you leave your lab. You can ask for her apartment number at the desk.” 

  
  
“Great, thank you.” She clapped twice, forcing the call to disconnect - the blue light vanishing. A moment was taken just to breathe and think rationally. What would Bjorg do that caused her not to show up for the whole day?

  
  
After finishing picking at her own nails, Ava took the flowers into one hand, and the box into the other. The flora had become a little floppy and withered already, the decorative paper crunching a lot as it bumped against her side as she followed the directions she was given.

  
  
And indeed, she was out in the open, presented with a handful of tall standing, sleek buildings. It took a moment for her to believe that they were part of the accommodation for staff at Platinum, and not the city centre. God, she would have loved to live here but her finances didn’t allow it, yet. Upon entering the building that she felt was the right one, the AI at the lobby sprung up from nowhere.

  
  
“Welcome to the Platinum Federation Accommodation buildings! Sorry, but this apartment building is fully rented out.” 

  
  
“Actually,” Ava started, deciding if she should cross the line or not. She rapidly settled for the former, “I’m looking for Bjorg Sigrun.” 

  
  
“I cannot disclose the room number, but I can for sure call the room! Would you like me to do that?”

  
  
“Yes.” 

  
  
And the call rang. You could hear it ringing even if you stood multiple distances away from the front desk. And it carried on calling. Ava chewed at her lip, flexing her hands that held the box of gear. 

  
  
Still ringing.

  
  
“Sorry, but it seems we cannot get to her.”

  
  
“Tell me her room number. Now.” The girl demanded, setting the box down by her feet as she approached the desk with considerable speed.

  
  
“My apologies, but I cannot do that.” 

  
  
“You stupid-” Ava squeezed her eyes shut and tightened the grip on the poor flower arrangement, “Tell me her room number, or I swear you will not see tomorrow.”

  
  
“I’m sorr-”

  
  
In a bout of mindlessness, anger, and irritation, she raised her hand and put it down at the desk. The current that made its way through her skin and into the electric circuitry below her palm glitched the system out from the sudden power surge. There were safeguards against that, yes, but nothing was able to protect itself from the power of a Virtue.

  
  
As a result, the panel that was attached to the desk was forced into emergency mode, displaying the entire list of the occupants, with Bjorg being under the room 173. Perfect. Quickly taking the box by the handle, Ava bolted for the elevator and headed to her destination.

  
  
Floor 17, room three. Even that didn’t open. She banged at the door, tried to unlock it normally and even tried to shock it open. Nothing had worked. Scenarios swirled around in the girl’s head, making up the worst events possible. There could be nobody there. There could be a dead body. An open window, with nobody inside. Or even two people. Maybe the bathroom door was locked from the outside (unlikely). Clothes, glasses, shards, strewn across the floor. Sanguine red liquid that had imbued the flooring.

Defeated, Ava dropped to her knees, the two items at her side, fists still glued to the veneer effect. A prick at the inner corners of the girl’s eyes and the quivering of her lip sent crystalline tears streaming down her complexion.

  
  
Her body got dragged to one side as the door hissed and pinged, sliding open.


End file.
